


A True Friend

by andinanotherlifetime



Category: Knives Out (2019)
Genre: Benoit is taking it slow, Eventual Smut, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Older Man/Younger Woman, One Shot, Slow Burn, Smut, because slow burns can only go so far before I cave in, benoit blanc - Freeform, but I might continue it and add a little spice to it, deep talks, helping through grief and tough times, knives out - Freeform, marta cabrera - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-16
Updated: 2020-08-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:55:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 54,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22748926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andinanotherlifetime/pseuds/andinanotherlifetime
Summary: It's been a year since Benoit has last seen Marta's face. Worried, he decides to make a surprise visit to her mansion to see how she is handling affairs after Harlan's death. Marta is happy to be reaquainted with an old friend, making it quite easy for Benoit to slip back into her life again.
Relationships: Benoit Blanc/Marta Cabrera
Comments: 26
Kudos: 138





	1. A Surprise Visit

In truth I shouldn’t have been surprised by the natural state of the house. Why, it looked the same as it did a year ago. And bless my heart, it was the same run down car parked outside of the house, the very one Marta used in a high speed chase not so long ago. I faintly smiled at the car I recognized, and then looked upwards to see the balcony completely empty.

A bleak grey sky hung over ahead, warning of a coming storm on this cold autumn day. The area around Marta’s house was quiet, almost peaceful. It was a stark contrast to the last time I saw her, knowing the Thrombey’s wouldn’t be so quick to latch their mouths off the hook. Oh no, they wouldn’t let it go that easily. I nearly laughed at the memory, and then patted down my heavy tweed suit before I stepped towards the house.

I’d be lying if I didn’t say that I was nervous, and thankfully, I didn’t have the same condition as Marta. She had no idea that I was coming up here to visit her. Oh, but she was sure in for a shock, I tell ya. I could only hope she wouldn’t be displeased with me, showing up at her house without at least giving her a ring. We were friends though, and even if we hadn’t spoken for months- a year at least, I had the faintest feeling that little ol’ Marta wouldn’t shut the door on me.

Marta, that sweet thing, a woman with such a kind heart that even Ransom couldn’t imagine his plan would fail.

The door looked very much the same, a potted plant was beside it, dying from the frost that carried over for the last few weeks. I smoothed down my jacket at the front nervously and then knocked hard on the door, hoping Marta was around to at least open it. I waited for a moment, feeling stupid that I should have even come ‘round here and all. I took a step back and looked over my shoulder to see her car parked in the center of the driveway. Determined I knocked on the door again, louder this time so she could hear it thoughout the house. “This is what you get when you live in a mansion,” I muttered to myself. Time felt like it was moving slowly, enough for me to feel discouraged. I took a step back, and then followed the natural fall of the staircase to take me about the hard gravel again. I moved around the side of the house, inspecting the area to see if there were any lights on. I passed an open window to see a faint lighting coming from the living room, offering me a sign that Marta was truly around. I rose up my arm to examine my wrist, seeing it was a little after noon. “She ought to be up.” Discouraged I made my way ‘round the house again, and then approached the door with a little more gravity this time. Another knock sounded loudly, a peak through the glass paneling at the sides to see it completely opaque- too dark for me to make anything out in her house. “Guess I can give her a ring,” I mused aloud, and then pulled out my phone from my coat pocket to scroll downwards for her name and number. My hand was shaking lightly when I pressed down on her name, and then brought it upwards to my ear to hear the phone ringing on her end.

“Hello.”

“Hello… Marta.”

“Detective Blanc?” Her voice was raised, showing a tell-tale sign of how nervous she was speaking to me. “Is everything alright?”

“It’s just fine,” I drawled out slowly. A short pause succeded, one where Marta was waiting for a reasonable explanation. “You see here, I called to…” I licked my lips nervously, taking a step back from the door after realizing I might have intruded on her privacy. “…see how you are?”

“Oh, I’m fine,” she answered me back quickly. “And you?”

“Never better,” I lied. “Been busy with cases.”

“Ours was a hard one,” she lightly laughed, as memories came flooding back to her.

“It was a little different,” I droned. “Something that I sure never encountered before.”

“Yeah,” she laughed again, and I could tell she was pleased by our turn of conversation.

“Marta,” I piped up softly, bringing the phone closer to her. “I wanted to call to make sure everything is okay, with ya.”

“No, its been great. I’ve been managing.”

“Uh huh.”

“Hard to believe its been a year.”

I took a seat on the top step, and then leaned my elbow against my knee to get in a more comfortable position. I thought of telling her I was outside of her house, but then I thought it wasn’t such a good time.

“I’ve been taking it day by day,” she continued. “Harlan’s left me a lot of responsibility. Some I am still managing to clean up.”

“I imagine so.”

“But his lawyer has been most corporative.”

“I remember he was a fine gentleman.”

“Yes,” she answered me stiffly, and then another long pause succeded.

“Marta? I am not sure how you feel about this, but I am right outside of your house.”

“What?”

“I was knocking on your door earlier, but no one was answering.”

“Oh, I was in my room.”

“You were?”

“I was listening to music. I was trying to take a nap.”

“My, you have such luxury.” I pushed myself off the top step and slowly walked towards the front door. “You wouldn’t mind opening the front door for me, would you? I thought it would be more comfortable in there, and all.”

“I’m coming down.”

“Ya, a sweet thing.”

Marta made no response for a moment, but eventually she responded in a shaky voice: “I- I look like a bit of a disaster, Detective Blanc.”

“Ya ain’t expecting no visitors.”

“No.”

“I can wait out here. I don’t mind waiting a few minutes more while ya get changed.”

“Thank you.”

“Take all the time you need,” I assured her, and then pressed down on the button to hang up the phone. I took a seat down on the front step again, and then patted the front of my coat until I could find the pocket where my cigar was hidden. It took a little while to unwrap the plastic casing, but eventually I had it firmly placed between my lips with a lighter at the ready. I watched the wind gently toss the leaves to and fro, the way the brown leaves scuttered across the graveled driveway to the wind’s uncharted whims. There was faint barking sounding through the house, reminding me of the three dogs that virtually attacked Ransom when he first arrived. “A good judge of character,” I mumbled with the cigar still resting between my lips.

Thick grey clouds rolled by overhead, growing darker by the moment as I watched its determined efforts to blot out the sun. I was getting lost in my own musing when I heard the chink of the door, and looked over my shoulder to see Marta standing in front of the open doorway. She wore a chunky cardigan of a rich chocolate brown and a light v-neck t-shirt that fit her small form perfectly. Black pajama pants made her appear more comfortable, and I nearly chuckled at the furry beige slippers that covered her feet. “It’s cold,” was the first thing she said to me, and made an effort to warm up the sides of her arms by dragging her hands up and down. “Come inside.”

I managed to stagger upwards, and reluctantly remove my cigar to give her a grateful smile. “Is it too much to ask for a hug?” I asked of her, only to see her cheeks faintly blush before she submitted to my whims. The hug was short and brief, but I was thankful all the same. “I can feel the warmth of your house already.”

“Yes, I shouldn’t really do it.” She held the door open for me, allowing me to enter her house with a curious gaze. “But it does get cold. I am worried about the winter.”

I took a look around her place, seeing it was decorated more or less the same. “Harlan had a fireplace, didn’t he?” I placed my cigar between my lips as I undid my jacket, noticing how keen Marta was to watch me. The tweed jacket slid off me with a certain ease, and then I placed it over my arm to show her I was nearly ready. “My shoes,” I muttered, with the cigar still placed between my lips.

“I’ll take your jacket.” She pried it off my arm with care and then went over to a nearby closet to store away my clothing. I took that brief moment to open up the door and snuff out my cigar, and then closed it behind me just as Marta had come into view. “Anything the matter?”

“I’ve been told its rude to smoke indoors.”

“You could have finished it.”

“Thank you, but I would like to behave in a more civilized manner. My apologies for not letting you know I was stopping by.”

“You were in the area?”

“You could say that,” I half lied. She caught my guilty smile, and did her best to break away our gaze to not let my conscious be betrayed any longer. “I thought I might drop by and check on you.”

“I am doing well, but thank you anyways.” She waited for me to remove my shoes before she ushered me down the long hallway. “Come in the kitchen. Have you had something to eat?”

“There was a nice little restaurant down in the city. I had a bite to eat.”

“Just a bite?”

“Yeah, they had small servings,” I drawled out slowly, until she smiled at me from the corner of her eyes. “I forgot how y’all eat up here.”

“Like what?”

“Oh…” I waited to be at her side as I answered her. “Like pigeons.”

She did her best not to laugh as we crossed the threshold of the kitchen, and then directed a chair for me to be seated. It was a high bar-stool, something uniquely modern compared to the rest of the house. “Do you drink tea or coffee?”

“What do you think?”

“You strike me as a guy that likes strong coffee?”

“Black will do.”

Marta set the ball rolling, getting things in motion to have the coffee machine all pressed and ready for me. She opened the fridge to retrieve the last of her cake, a double serving of rich chocolate with fancy shavings on the top. It was offered to me, and me being the gentleman that I am decided to accept her offering. “A tiny bit will do.”

“It’s the last of my sister’s cake,” she explained. “It was her birthday a few days ago. She lives with her boyfriend now.”

“Oh, is this new?”

“It is, yeah.”

I licked the tip of my finger that got smudged in chocolate icing, since Marta made it smear the edge of the plate, she had kindly handed to me. Marta watched the movement with some amusement but made no comment. I watched her take the bar stool beside me, nearly letting our elbows rub against the other since we were so close.

“My mother is visiting an old friend right now. She’s sick.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, it's all rather sudden,” Marta sadly explained. “I would go with her, but they were childhood friends, and I don’t know too much about her. Its better that she went alone.”

“So, you got this big place all to yourself.”

“Yeah.” Marta strung her fingers through her thick dark hair, letting me watch the movements for a moment or two. “I really feel the size when I am alone. I suppose its good that you’ve come.”

“Yes.”

“You have a case in town?”

“No, I have a bit of a break.”

“From work?”

“A break in between cases,” I informed her with a bit of timidity. “A man needs time off every now and then.”

“And you used it to pay me a visit?”

“I’ve been thinking about you lately.” I turned my gaze away from her then, settling it over the cake that was still untouched. “Wondering how everything is. Thinking… thinking it was wrong to leave you like that.”

“Like what?”

“I figured you knew what best to do.” I returned my gaze to her, taking in the richness of her hazel coloured eyes. “But I hadn’t really…”

“Yes?”

“Well, you are a bit alone, aren’t ya?”

“I have my family.”

“Yeah, but you don’t really have a man to support ya.” She pouted vaguely, and then looked at the coffee machine that signalled it was ready. “Not saying that you need a man, but…” She slipped off the chair, falling quite a distance because of her short stature. I watched her slippers shuffle across the cold tiled floor, and then she turned her back to me to retrieve two mugs. I wasn’t surprised to see the large one she picked out for herself, though she lingered for a little to select one appropriate enough for me. She chose a large black one, a kind that shined in the pale lighting from the open window next to her. “I hope I haven’t offended you, Marta.”

“I think I understand what you are trying to say.”

“I can only hope so.”

“Is it because I don’t have a father?” she asked. “Harlan was like a father to me at times. He was a friend, a good one.”

“I know he meant a lot to you.”

“I don’t know what I am going to do,” she mused aloud. “I keep thinking I have a hold on things, and then it just slips through my hand.” She poured the coffee into my cup first, and then let her feet glide forward until she was in front of me. Marta let the heavy mug slide across the grey counter-top, and only stopped once I reached out my hand to hold it. “But I think I did a lot, all things considering.”

“I believe you.”

“I’ve barely spent any money. The only thing I did spend money on was a lawyer to defend my mother.” She watched me nod my head in understanding, since I knew the secret truth about her mother’s immigration into the United States. “They can’t do anything to her anymore.” Marta went over to the coffee machine again, pouring out a cup full for herself with some satisfaction. I watched her nearly glide over to the fridge, taking out a carton full of cream to pour into her coffee. Sugar was added next, a luxury that I had refrained from for many years now. “Have you had many cases?”

“Quite a few.”

“And are they as bizarre as this one?”

“A donut hole, inside of a donut hole, then no?” She laughed at my words, and quickly took a seat beside me. Her hands cupped the side of her mug in comfort, and she tilted her head in such a way to let her dark hair dangle over the side of her shoulder that was furthest from me. Marta took her time looking at me, taking in my appearance for the first time since we sat down. “What is it?”

“You look relaxed,” she answered me with a faint smile. “Is this what you look like when you aren’t on a case?”

“I guess so.” I reached for my mug to lift it off the counter-top. “Do you approve?”

Marta was silent when I took my first sip of coffee, finding it smooth to the taste. I eagerly took another one, and then closed my eyes with pleasure as I made a little humming sound just for her. “You like it?”

“A mighty good cup of coffee, darling,” I drawled out with pleasure. “A mighty good one.”

“You can have another.”

“Maybe after this slice of cake. Thank you, by the way.”

“I wish I could have gotten you something nicer, but you know, I eat anything.”

“I’ll have to cook for you,” I teased. “Show you what you’ve truly been missing.”

“You can cook.”

“A connoisseur, of sorts.”

“Really?” Marta leaned her head over the palm of her hand, letting her elbow rest across the counter-top with ease. She appeared relaxed next to me, not having that stressful air about her like when we first met.

“I’m a man that likes good food.” I patted my stomach for her to get my meaning, knowing I had been putting on weight over the last several years. I suppose that’s what happens when you get older, though I felt that Marta didn’t necessarily disapprove of it.

“I like food, but I’m not picky.”

“It has nothing to do with that!” I exclaimed. “No, its more of a preference, that’s all.”

“You sound like Harlan.”

“Why?”

“Oh, he was very specific with things. Look at this decoration, would you say he didn’t care about appearances? Every detail is fine tuned, almost selected for a very specific reason.”

“He had a clever mind, Harlan.”

“Too clever! Why else would I be sitting here?” Marta sighed after that explanation, and then had a sudden forlorn look to her. I slowly reached out my hand and laid it on her forearm with comfort, letting her bright hazel eyes turn in my direction. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“Going off like that.”

“You’re allowed to be frustrated. You never asked for any of this, but Harlan gave you this for a reason. He believed in you! He knew you had a good heart. He knew you would use his money wisely.”

“He put me above his own children.”

“Yes, but you know how they are,” I chuckled out, which made the girl beside me join in as well. After that we drank our coffee in silence, simply letting our eyes stray outwards to the window where water was gradually pelting the glass. It looked like a hard storm was coming, and I was sure as hell real happy that I wasn’t outside.

“I’ll be back,” Marta told me, and then abandoned her spot to go into the main living room. She returned a few minutes later with a blanket in hand, and then made a small complaint that she was cold.

“We can sit somewhere else, if you’d like.”

“I thought you might want to finish your coffee.”

“I can drink it somewhere else.”

“Alright, I will start a fire.”

“I’ll do it.”

“Okay.” She watched me pick up my mug that was still remotely hot and then followed her out of the kitchen. We entered the main living room, looking the same as ever. The shining knives in the corner of my room caught my attention, but I made no comment on the elaborate furniture Marta decided to keep. We made our way over to the fireplace, empty and cold as ever, and after I placed my mug atop of the fireplace mantel, I began to start a fire for the two of us. Marta watched me as she sat upon the leather couch, letting her feet curl inwards like she was cat. I could feel her heavy gaze upon me, but I made no sound as I readjusted the firewood to my liking. The match struck, and I worked hard to get it to kindle before I moved back.

“That should do it.”

“I think so.”

I rose to my feet and then looked at the couch where Marta was sitting. “You mind if we share the blanket or…”

“No, its fine.”

I took a seat next to her, trying not to get to close before she draped the blanket over the top of my thigh. “Thank you, Watson,” I teased, which brought a small smile to her face. “I thought we made a good team.” My arm stretched out to the other side of the couch, just over the back of her head where she was resting. “We got him in the end.”

“Yes, we did.”

“I think I should apologize.”

“For what?”

“I was so busy trying to prove my point, that I never considered putting your precious life in danger. I do apologize for that Marta.”

“You never knew-”

“-it's not a good enough excuse.” Marta looked over to the far right where the decorative knife display was located, and I knew the memories were flashing through her mind as well.

“I’m just happy no one else got hurt.”

“Yes.” She watched me leave our spot to retrieve my cup of coffee, pleasantly surprised that it was still hot. I stretched out my left hand towards the fire, feeling the burning heat scorching my skin. It was nice to have a fire, a real one, not that decorative display you see at most restaurant’s these days. “Its nice and cozy here.”

“Very.”

“A room fit for a Queen,” I jeered over my shoulder, knowing she would find it amusing. “Imagine that, Marta Cabrera, a Queen.”

“Hardly.”

I looked over my shoulder to see her smile shining at me, finding it a regular occurrence today. I brought my mug to my lips, letting our eyes retain that same connection as I took a leisurely sip. There was something brewing between us, I could feel it.

“Won’t you come back?”

“Oh, but I like the heat,” I teased, while I tried to cover that naughty twitch of my lips as my thoughts naturally steered to another direction. “Unless you can come up with something better?”

Silence lingered, a long one at that, and it was only after an awkward minute passed that I realized Marta was biting on the inside of her tongue. _It’s because she can’t lie._ I tried to cover my dark chuckle by forcing myself to face the fire, knowing that if she couldn't read my thoughts then she wouldn't realize that I was quickly catching on.

I eventually returned to her side, abandoning my mug upon the mantel since I had finished the last of it. The fire cracked near us, while the faint pelting of rain upon the glass windows sounded in the distance. I could feel the roaring heat of the fire, the faint smell of burning wood already coming over my senses. There was a gap between us, but I wasn’t brave enough to fill it.

“Why were you taking a nap earlier?”

“There wasn’t much else to do. I was reading, but then my eyes got tired.”

“Why?”

“I spend most of my time reading.”

“Would you ever write?” I inquired. “Like Harlan?”

“Harlan was a natural.” She tilted her head over the side of the couch, letting her wavy hair dangle over the top of her left shoulder. “I could never do that.”

“It all starts with confidence.”

“I’m a nurse,” she told me. “A good one at that.”

“A _damn_ good one.” Her eyebrow raised after she heard me curse, unaccustomed to such language spoken by me. “I think we can both agree on that.”

“I don’t think I can ever work. Not after what happened to Harlan.”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“I know, but I can’t get that image out of my mind. You’d think it would get easier with time, but it doesn’t. It really doesn’t!”

“What?”

“Death,” she hissed out. “Its been a year and I thought I would manage, but I think the grief deepens.”

“You had too many distractions at first,” I droned out. “And that was before they ever read out the will.”

“You’re right.”

“And now that the dust has settled, well, I reckon everything becomes real for y’all.” She wore a grin at my words, probably missing our slow and easy conversations we always shared with one another. “It’s okay to grieve. Hell, we all do! I think you should talk to someone about it. Can’t let it all bottle up.”

“I’m talking about it with you.”

“Ya sure are.”

“Detective Blanc?”

“Please don’t call me that.” Her chin rose upwards, startled by my words. “I came to visit you as a friend and I was hoping you could address me that way too. This ain’t no business call, Marta. This a friend checkin’ on another friend.”

“Yes,” she replied in a soft tone of voice.

“You could call me ‘Benny,’” I suggested. “Or Benoit.”

“Which do you prefer?”

“Oh.” I scratched the side of my face tiredly, finally feeling like a day’s travel was catching up to me. “Whichever you prefer.”

“Benny sounds more friendly.”

“Sure does.”

“Benoit suits you more.”

“Marta?”

“Yes.”

“Choose whatever one ya fancy.”

“Benoit,” she decided with a firm nod of her head in my direction. “Yes, it will be that one.”

“Feel free to switch back and forth till you find one of yer liking.” A friendly smile was offered to me, and then she batted her eyes slowly as though she wanted to fall asleep. I watched her curl up on the couch, taking up most of it. Marta laid her head down on the couch, letting it stay an inch or two from the side of my outer thigh. She pulled the blanket over the whole of her frame, and let her eyes take in the dim lighting of the fire since my knee obstructed her view. “Falling asleep on me?”

“I’m tired today.”

“Should I leave?”

“No stay for dinner, at least.”

“Alright.”

“You have a hotel?” I bit down on my bottom lip, wondering if I should lie to the girl. She caught my actions, and then gave me a look to show me read my expressions all to well. “Benoit you can stay here.”

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”

“I have a lot of rooms.”

“Yeah, but…”

“Benoit.”

“Yeah, Marta?”

“You don’t have to worry.”

“If you insist.”

“It will be nice to have company. Is your luggage in your car?”

“Yeah.”

“You can get it when the run stops pouring,” she lightly suggested. “Stay here.”

“Only for the night.”

“Stay as long as you want,” Marta assured me. “I’m in no hurry to get you out the house, Benoit.”

“Liking me already, Marta?”

She simply closed her eyes at me in response, though she had trouble hiding her smile of pure glee. _She’s liking me already._

I decided to close my eyes as well, soaking in this relaxing moment. Marta was an excellent companion, she always had been, and I was almost certain she always would be as well.


	2. An Afternoon Snack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marta takes a while to wake up from her nap, but when she does she get to know a little bit more about Benoit and his interest in her.

A little over an hour later Marta stirred in her sleep, bumping the back of her hand into the side of my thigh. Her arm recoiled backwards, and then her eyes batted softly until they were wide open to stare at the other side of the room. A plush armchair of ruby red was in her line of sight, empty just like the rest of the house except for the two of us. Marta made a soft groan, stretched out her legs until it smacked the other end of the couch. I sensed she was unaware of my presence, allowing me to observe her dabbing her eyes with the back of her hand in exhaustion. She rolled over on her back and only then caught sight of me, letting out a sharp squeal to realize I was watching her all along. “You had yourself a nice nap there,” I commented in a playful voice. Her cheeks turned a soft rosy red, and then closed her eyes slightly in embarrassment.

“How long was I asleep?”

“Just over an hour.”

She pushed back the blankets with her hand, and then gradually brought herself upwards. Marta’s legs curled inwardly, though she rested her back against the couch as she tried to wake herself up. I watched her gaze go past me to take in the fire, low in its metal grate. She lifted her right hand to rub the side of her face, and then batted her eyelids tiredly as she gazed into the fire.

“You could go back to sleep, you know.”

“No, I’ve slept for long enough.” Her right hand rested over the front of her face, nearly cupping over her right eye and nose as she tilted her head downwards. “Benoit.” She dropped her hand away from her face. “What time is it?”

“Almost four.”

“In the afternoon?”

“Yes, Marta.”

“Why is it so dark?”

“The storm is still raging,” I droned out softly. “It will quiet down soon enough.”

She nodded her head in agreement, and finally turned her head in my direction. A warm smile was offered towards me, letting our gaze naturally maintain itself for a blessed moment. “You didn’t sleep?”

“No, I was thinking.”

She reached downwards to recollect the blanket she had mistakenly dropped on the floor. Marta curled it over herself, and then quietly asked if I would like to share it. I politely declined her offer, and then turned my head to the left of me to stare into the soothing fireplace that seemed to quiet down my thoughts. I let the silence speak for itself, finding this peaceful moment too good to be true. It was so natural to be sitting beside her; my arm outstretched itself along the couch just behind her head. Marta was silent next to me, though I heard her shifting about the couch to get into a more comfortable position. She suddenly leaned her head over the top of my right shoulder, snuggling up to me for some unknown reason. “You’re warm,” she observed happily, and then brought the blanket over the top of my lap as she settled over the side of me more. I looked down at the top of her head, taking in that dark mane of hair that was thick and wavy as it fell down her back. Her side profile was exposed to me, and with closed lids I was able to look at Marta without her realizing it. She was as snug as a bunny, which brought a whimsical smile to my face. “You sleeping ‘gain?”

“No,” she lied. “Resting.”

“Aren’t they the same thing?”

Marta rested her hand over the top of my chest, laying it over my beating heart. I had multiple layers on, but her small touch still affected me. Her skin took on a warm tone with the firelight on her, making me feel almost bewitched by her. _Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all._

Marta smoothed her hand over the front of my mid-section, curling her body into me more. I wasn’t sure if she was trying to tell me something, or she simply felt comfortable enough to do that with me. I could feel my right arm grow rigid as it rested over the top of the couch, hating myself for wanting to wrap my arm around her.

The silence was becoming too much to bear, my overactive mind was spinning out of control. I needed a distraction- a case, something to get them wheels spinning in my head. “Marta? You mind if I go get one of Harlan’s books?”

She lifted her chin off my shoulder, squinting at me with tired eyes. “You read them?”

“I can only self-reflect for so long by the fire.”

She laughed softly at my statement, and then rolled her body off me to gradually bring her feet back to the carpeted floor. “I think there is a shelf behind me. You can find some.”

“Which one you’ve been reading?”

“The Bloody Tower.”

“Sounds grotesque.”

“You can say that.”

“You ‘ver have trouble sleeping after reading one of them things?” I stood to my feet as well, standing close enough beside her to notice the differences in our height. “Living in such a big mansion, and all? Considering…” She rose up an eyebrow in question. “Harlan killed himself here?”

“I hadn’t really thought of it that way.”

“No ghosts?” I half taunted, as I leaned forward with bent knees to get to her level. “Forgive me, Marta. I shouldn’t joke about such things.”

“No ghosts,” she coldly replied. “But I don’t like to go into his…” Her lips clenched together and then a frown betrayed her silent thoughts. “I keep picturing that blade against his neck. The look he had before he… well…”

I laid a hand over the top of her shoulder and offered her a reassuring look, noticing the dewiness to those brilliant hazel eyes of her. “I think you need something in your stomach.”

“It is nearly dinner time.”

“Nearly.”

“We could have a snack,” she suggested, and then led the way to take me out of the cozy living room. I followed behind her, observing the way her fingers curled into her long sleeves of her sweater. I could sense a nervousness, betrayed by her, and I hoped I wasn’t the one to bring it about.

She opened the window once we entered the kitchen, letting a sharp gust of wind blow its way into her room. I took a seat by the high-bar stool, watching her push back the navy blue drapes to expose the mighty extent of the storm. Dark clouds rolled over the back lawn, while the high trees at the entrance of the forest blew sharply by a steady gale. I rested my chin over the palm of my hand with ease, taking in her small, finely shape as she moved about the kitchen. “What do you feel like eating?”

“Just about anything, really.”

“I don’t have much.” She held open the fridge and stared into it with a look of dejection. “I never knew I would be having a guest.”

“You don’t have to go all out just to impress me.” I slid off the chair and took my feet for a ride as I headed towards her. I stood right behind her, towering over Marta as I gazed at the half empty fridge. “Looks like you need to go shopping!”

“Yes.”

“Maybe tomorrow.”

“Alright.”

“You can stay here and I’ll pick up a few things. I’ll give you a nice dinner tomorrow night.”

“That- that would be nice,” she stammered out nervously. Her sleeves were clutched deeply into her hand again, helplessly laying at her sides now that I took a steady handle of the fridge door. “I see there is some sandwich meat.”

“You want a sandwich?”

“If you have some bread,” I deliberated aloud. “It’s not much, but it sure is something.” Marta reached forward to take out a bag of lettuce and tomatoes. I reached over her shoulder to take a hold of the small bag of ham, brushing my body against her in the process. She stepped forward to find her self against the fridge shelves, letting out a nervous laughter once she realized she was trapped. “Everything alright there, hun?”

“I forgot how tall you are.”

“Now, I ain’t that tall,” I drawled out slowly, though I made sure to maintain my close position over her.

“You must be,” she remarked over her shoulder. “I guess you need some mustard.”

“And mayonnaise.” I paused for a moment as I watched her fetch some things. “Got any cheese?”

“Uh huh.”

“This will suit us fine.” I took a step back reluctantly, giving Marta some space to move around. I opened the door wider to see her squeeze through, keenly aware of how nervous she looked as she brushed her shoulder across my chest. “Should have left you more room,” I mused aloud, but Marta never responded back to me. I followed her to the cutting board, dropping the things down beside her. She took out a long knife that reminded me of an event nearly a year ago. Marta hesitated with the blade, looking at the glossy white shine glaze across it from the lighting of the window. She wavered to set it down over the head of lettuce, but eventually she sliced it through and managed to complete the process. I abandoned her side to fetch a loaf of bread, seeing there was just enough for our sandwiches.

Marta watched me lay it out on two plates once I returned to our side, and together we managed to make ourselves a fine tastin' sandwich. “You got anything to drink?” I questioned her, which made her suggest I look in the fridge. She had pineapple juice and some fruit punch, but it was a little too sweet for me. I was about to settle on water when I noticed she had two cans of coke at the back of the fridge, and even though they were diet, I fished it out from the bottom shelf. “Diet coke?” I yelled over my shoulder.

“I’ll have water.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, that isn’t for me.”

“Then whose it for? It ain’t Harlan?”

“My sister,” she nearly laughed. “Harlan wouldn’t drink that stuff. I wouldn’t allow for it.”

I shot her a grin over my shoulder and elected to have a glass of water as well. We took our time getting to the high-bar stools again, and with our sandwiches placed in front of us we looked comfortable with one another. I leaned forward to take a hold of my clear glass, staring at the water with a deep look of mediation. “You have friends around here?”

“No.”

“You know, most girl’s your age would be throwing weekly parties at this place.” I smiled over the rim of my cup. “But you ain’t like most girls.”

“No.”

“I get a sense… I feel like you are much older than you are.” I took a deep sip of my water, hearing Marta chew down on her sandwich beside me. “You ever heard of the term ‘old soul?’” I questioned her. “I get the sense that’s what you _are._ ”

“You think?”

“Marta,” I drawled out slowly. “Not every girl your age can get on so well with a man like Harlan. Now, I know he’s an interesting guy.” She nearly laughed at that comment. “But he’s old, ain't he?”

“Yes.”

“Real old,” I emphasized, to at least boost my own selfish ego. “And the two of you spent all that time together in this house.”

“So?”

“I just think you are beyond your age, that’s all. Maybe that’s why we get along so swimmingly together.”

“Yeah,” she chuckled out harmlessly. “It could be.”

“Now, I’m a gentleman,” I told her. “A quiet, rather introspective person.” She nodded her head in agreement. “Kind that likes to observe things without being detected by others. It’s why I’m so good at my job, you see. The very qualities I have makes me this way. Now…” I leaned forward, arching my back to lean more on Marta’s side. “What is it about you that makes me so comfortable?”

“I don’t know.”

“You really think so?” I drawled out slowly. “Marta?”

“What- what do you want me to say?” she finally confessed, with wavering eyes.

“I’m just trying to make sense of it all!” I exclaimed loudly. “You see here, it's just not normal for a girl like you to lock yourself up in the house all day. Nothing wrong with it, cuz, I know you so well. Well, I sure think I do.” My arm rested over the side of the table, bringing my body to face this young girl completely. “What do you think, Marta?”

“I like the peace and quiet.” I smiled at her, nodding my head most agreeably. “And your company doesn’t disturb it.”

“You think I’m like Harlan then?” I questioned her nice and slow, almost worried about her honest reaction.

“Harlan?” she echoed with a puzzling look to her. “No, you aren’t like him.” She watched me lean backwards in silent relief. “He was different.”

“But you enjoy my company?” I asked her with a sudden crispness.

“I do.”

She turned her shoulder to me, and then returned to her meal. I had no choice but to followed suit, and soon enough I was chomping down on a ham sandwich to fill my aching belly. The storm was still raging outside, flashes of lighting suddenly appearing to make the house look all the more eerie. Marta appeared to be unbothered by the worsening weather, simply eating her sandwich like she had all the time in the world.

“Thank you for coming,” Marta stated, breaking our lengthy silence. “I like being alone, but I don’t like _feeling_ alone. Does that make sense?”

“Sure does,” I droned. “I feel the same way.” I wore a sad smile, tilting my head downwards in deep reflection. “It's like that case we worked on. I don’t mind working alone, but your company sure did help. I could speak aloud! Voice out my thoughts as it came, and you were a quiet, passive receiver of it.” I turned my head to force my gaze on hers. “I liked having my Watson.”

“Sherlock?” she mouthed out softly. “Yes.”

“Great admirer of that man.”

“Even if he isn’t real.”

I laid my finger against my mouth teasingly, setting her into a state of giggles. “I’m just fixin’ ya.”

Marta shoke her head in pure agreeableness, and then drove her fingers through her hair to keep it away from her face. “Your funny, Benoit.”

“Am I?”

“Strange, but funny.”

“I’m strange?” I drawled out to let my accent come out in the fullest.

“Very.”

I wore a prideful smug then, and then tilted my body to face her. My knees brushed against the side of her thigh, bringing a flurry of colour to her cheeks. Her gaze shifted to the physical contact I ensued, and then to my blue eyes that told a story in itself. “What is it, Marta?”

“Nothin’,” she lied, once she put on an accent that was similar to myself.

“You makin’ fun of me,” I asked her darkly, letting my accent go a little deeper.

She shook her head at me playfully, and then guilty lifted her ham sandwich to cover her growing smile.

“Least you ain’t saying… KFC.” She spat out her sandwich at that, and then moved away from me in humiliation as she ran for a paper towel. Her food was all over the plate; I should have been disgusted but I found the whole situation funny. I kept laughing as she drew a white towel over her mouth, and when she ran over to dispose of her soiled plate I kept laughing ‘till tears wound itself in my eyes. “Marta!”

“Yes,” she nearly groaned out.

“I guess I am funny.”

“Oh, shut it!” She caught my smirk and turned her back to me. I watched her dump half of her sandwich down the bin, knowing it was a waste but there was nothing she could do about it. “KFC,” she mumbled, and even she couldn’t contain her laughter anymore. “Ransom,” she grumbled, with a sharp shake of her head. “He could say anything and not have repercussions for it.”

“Was he rude to ya?”

“Surprisingly no.” She reached over the long counter to retrieve her glass of water. “We got along quite well.” She looked over her shoulder at the open window. “I think that is enough fresh air. I’m going to close it.”

“You didn’t eat your sandwich.”

“Some.” She left me to go close the kitchen window, letting me watch that long beige cardigan drape over her small frame. She had a pleasant mood about her, almost as light as a cloud. Once it was shut she looked over her shoulder at me. “And whose fault is that?”

“Mine,” I said with glee with a finger pointed against my chest. “I plead the fifth.”

“Funny.”

“So I’ve been told.”

Marta walked over to me slowly, letting her gaze rest over me with certain ease. “Stay for as long as you want, Benoit. I- I like having you around.”

“Then I will,” I promised her, and then lifted up my glass with a little tilt in her direction. “You can sure bet on it.”


	3. A Tease

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marta and Benoit teasing continues, until Benoit considers it to be a sly way of flirting. Marta shut his idea down immediately, but as the night continues he isn't so sure she is telling him the complete truth.

My clothes were neatly folded over my bed, all pressed and ready for the next several days. I stood beside the bed with nothing but khaki brown pants and a plain white tank top to boot. The wind from the open window blew behind me, bringing in a soft gust of air that I could feel at the back of my neck until light goosebumps prickled my skin. I was wondering if I was crossing a line staying over at Marta’s, as if things would get too confusing between us. I wanted us to be friends, but something, a _feeling_ deep down inside me warned it was a bad idea.

I stroked my finger through my short hair upwards, and then settled on a light teal blue dress shirt to put on for this evening. The rest of my clothes could go in the drawers, finding it useless to stuff it back into my small suitcase again.

I had left Marta in the kitchen about an hour ago, deciding it was a good idea to retrieve my luggage now that the rain had stopped. She suggested I spend sometime upstairs getting properly settled, so for the last hour I had been unpacking and took a quick shower to at least clear my head. I knew I was a few doors down from Marta, for she was staying in her own apartment space that she frequently slept in when Harlan required her to stay the night. It was a humble room like mine, a thing that reflected her own personality no doubt.

I left the bedside to retrieve the ironing board, and then investigated the room to find the iron to take away the last of the creases. I knew it was just the two of us, and Marta would most likely be sporting her pajamas for the rest of the day, but I couldn’t help but put on the best of my clothes for this evening.

“Marta, Marta,” I muttered under my breath. “Where is the damn iron?” I looked under the cupboard of the bathroom, peaking around every dark corner that I could find, but it wasn’t around anywhere. Frustrated beyond anything, I stepped out of the bedroom and strode down the hall to find Marta’s room. I knocked hard on the door, and then regretted it instantly, for it sounded aggressive in a way. I made sure to take a large step back when I heard her approaching the door, since I felt so guilty for being rude. The door swung open and Marta was standing there wearing only her white v-neck shirt and comfy pants, though the thinness of her shirt revealed the traces of her black bra. I forced my eyes upwards when she called out my name, knowing I had to compose my facial features when my thoughts were running a different area entirely. “Huh?” I finally stammered out like an idiot. “Sorry, what?”

“You needed something?”

“Oh.” I pointed my thumb behind me, motioning to the bedroom that I had left. “I couldn’t find an iron anywhere.”

“I have one in here.” She released her hold over the door and motioned me to step inside. I walked over the threshold, taking in how pristinely clean Marta’s room was. She had her window open as well, since the evening was a pleasantly cool one. There was a record player on a wooden desk, spinning around to let classical music fill her room, though the volume was so low it was almost soothing. She looked around the room in search of the clothing iron, letting me travel further into her room to see the selection of three photographs taken in her youth. I found my feet gravitating to the closest one, seeing her placed upon the lap of a man that had the same eye colour as hers. A sad smile crossed my face since I believed it to be her father, and when I looked at his dark hair colour with the same wavy texture, I was certain my suspicions were correct. The other two photos were with her sister, taken at different times of her life. The last photograph was a picture of her and Harlan, both with large smiles as they looked directly into the camera. I recognized the setting behind them, believing it to be in Harlan’s backyard since I could see the faint outline forest behind them.

“Doing a little investigating?” I looked over my shoulder to see an iron in Marta’s hand, slightly raised for me to take it from her.

“I was just lookin’.”

Marta came to my side, lifting a photo of Harlan with a profound look of sadness. “We would sometimes go for walks,” she explained. “It was good exercise for him. Harlan would say it helped him think.”

“About?”

“A plot line for his stories, especially when he was stuck.”

“Writer’s block?” I looked down at Marta instead, preferring my gaze to be directed at the woman beside me. She was shaking her head in disagreement, clearly knowing her writer friend more than I ever could.

“Harlan never got writer’s block.” She placed the photograph down sadly. “He was too talented to do so.” She turned her back to the photograph, bringing the iron with her unknowingly. She was pacing across the room without realizing it, letting her thoughts drift off. “Would you mind going for a walk with me tomorrow? I will have to walk the dogs anyways.” She pouted slightly. “I should let them out tonight.”

“You let them roam free? Just like Harlan did?”

“I do,” she nearly chuckled. “They are probably off taking a nap somewhere, but that won’t last long.”

“Why you keep them?” I asked her slowly, since I was very interested in her answer. “Sentiment or…”

“Sentiment,” she concluded. “They belong here.”

“You ever think…” I halted for a moment, hoping I wouldn’t offend her. She was standing in front of her doorway with the iron in hand, unaware that the sunlight was exposing more of her black bra than she would have liked. I forced that distraction away from my mind and forced my gaze to go onto the carpeted floor. “That you might be living Harlan’s life instead of yours?”

“Yes.”

I raised my chin upwards at that, startled by her words.

“You know I can’t lie,” she teased. She waved her hand for me to follow her out of the room, and soon we were walking side by side down the hallway. It was darker in the hallway, making Marta and I appear like shadows as we crossed from one side to the other. She stopped in front of my doorway, letting a tiny peep of light rest over the side of her face and neck. “I’m working on it,” she assured me. “Maybe you can help?”

“I’ll try.”

She handed me the iron and I gladly accepted it. Marta bit down on the bottom of her lip curiously, making me wonder why a certain look crossed her eyes. “Ironing your shirt?” she finally piped up, which made me look down at the thin tank top I was currently wearing.

“I’m under dressed,” I drawled out sinisterly. “It wasn’t done on purpose faa sure.”

“You still have a shirt on,” she teased, before she turned her feet slightly away from me. “I will see you for dinner?”

“Ya sure will.”

“Okay,” she softly replied, and then swung her body over to the left to make her way down the hall again. I stood there like an idiot watching her, feeling like I couldn’t keep my eyes off this girl. She never looked over her shoulder, however, and soon she was back into her bedroom with a soft close of her door. My lips pursed tightly, and with a reluctant heaving of my chest I stepped backwards into my room and closed my door as well.

The iron was eventually plugged in, and while it took its time heating up, I went over to my bedstand to plug in my phone. There were no messages, so I had every reason to stay at Marta’s for a bit longer. For once in my life I hoped I wouldn’t be called in for a case, a thing that was rather uncharacteristic for me. I laid my hands on my hips as I sauntered over to the open window, leaning forward to see the last of the mist hover over the side of the green lawn and forest far up ahead. The trees were bare, a thick layer of autumn leaves was crushed against the ground after such a fierce storm. The sky above was a sleet of grey, but the sunset forced colour upon the land, making the Thrombey’s Estate almost look like a dream world. _No wonder they fought so hard to get it._

I took a step backwards, and then looked over my shoulder to see the iron was nearly ready. _She hasn’t mentioned any of the family yet,_ I realized, _does that mean they finally left her alone._

I tapped my fingers over the top of my thigh, deciding whether it would be wise to bring it up tonight. The last thing I wanted to do was upset Marta, but its been a year since Harlan’s death so perhaps the dust had settled after all.

I dismissed the rest of my troubled thoughts and made my way to the ironing board to get the job done. It was about time I get myself dressed and presentable in front of this fine woman, and if things go right than she wouldn’t regret having me around. _Tread carefully, Benoit._ I flapped up my dress shirt, finding it amusing that it resembled the same colour as my eyes. _Tread carefully._

* * *

When I came downstairs two large dogs pounded before me, encircling me for a few seconds before they lifted their paws to press it against the front of my trousers. “Well, hello there,” I cheerily said. They sniffed the front of my pants and leather dress shoes, trying to decipher the scent of this unknown stranger. They weren’t barking at me like they did with Ransom, a pleasant relief if I may say so myself. I bent down on a knee to scratch the back of one dog, taking in the dark brown underbelly while the rest of his coat was a clean shade of black. Adorable black eyes dove into mine, his tongue hanging out of his mouth with pure happiness. “You like me?” I questioned him and brought up my hand to rub the side of his face. “Get a good sense from me, huh?”

The creaking of the staircase made me look behind me, and I instinctively knew that Marta was coming down the stairs. The dogs sensed her presence and ran past me, tumbling up the stairs as fast as they could until they surrounded Marta as well. She took her time petting the two dogs, unaware that I was bent over at the bottom of the staircase watching her. She made a small humming sound of surprise when one tried to jump onto the top of her knees, but in a stern voice she told the one of all black to stay down. Marta decided to walk down the staircase, only pausing once she reached the landing and noticed me. “Did they scare you?”

“No.”

“They can be overwhelming at times.” She brushed her hands down the side of her to be rid of the dog hair, letting me take in the tight black leggings she was wearing with cozy sky-blue socks. She was still dressed casually, though she was wearing a short sweater vest of pure white with a rounded turtleneck that let her dark hair contrast nicely against it. I noticed she had taken the time to paint her nails white, and when she came a little closer, she was wearing a dark auburn red lipstick that made an object of focus. I lowered my gaze shyly and dug my hands into my trouser pockets to control my nerves. The dogs ran past us both, positioning themselves in front of the door so they could be free. Marta decided to ignore my strange behaviour and quickly walk past me. I followed after her, nearly overtaking Marta by the time she placed her hand over the doorknob.

“Taking them outside?”

“They can go on their own.”

“Fancy going out for a bit?” She made no eye contact with me as she twisted the doorknob, and then answered me with a reluctant nod of the head. “Only a suggestion.”

“I thought it might be a bit cold,” she said as an excuse. “I’ll need a jacket.”

I raised up a hand in front of me, nearly bending my knees for her to open the front door. “Take your time,” I drawled out lowly, and then side stepped away from the door so the dogs could escape quickly.

“Give me a minute.”

“I’ll be outside with the dogs,” I told her. My hand reached upwards to retrieve my tweed jacket and I slid my arms through it as she opened the front doors. The dogs scampered down the step and sprinted down the open parking lot, probably heading to the deep forest that wound itself around the Thrombey’s or should I say- Marta’s house. “See ya in a few,” I told her, and poked up my collar at the back before I strode out the door without here. The air was brisk, cold like the autumn weather I was warned about before I left home. I rubbed my fingers across my mouth, aware of how cold the wind felt as it blew across my face. The fresh air was nice though, sweet really. I looked over my shoulder to find the door had been closed behind me, and then I slowly descended the steps to find myself in the gravel parking lot.

I could still remember that irk, an unpleasant feeling when I watched Marta run from her car to Ransom’s. She was running from the rage of the Thrombey’s family, but still, I wish she could have run for safety somewhere else. “All worked out in the end,” I mumbled to myself, knowing we wouldn’t have pinned down Ransom if it hadn’t been for his own arrogance. I looked over my shoulder to see the large house behind me, finding it so still and quiet that I felt it wasn’t meant for just one person alone. Marta came through the front door then, buttoning up her beige coat that looked old and well used. She slowly descended the steps, appearing self-conscious at first, but once the dogs barking made her a little distracted, she was able to approach me.

“You came out,” I observed aloud. “It won’t be for long.”

“No, it’s a good idea.”

“Got better shoes than me,” I pointed out. “I don’t have rain-boots like you.”

“We can stay on the path,” she suggested. “The dogs will come in when they are ready.”

I nodded my head in acknowledgement and then outstretched my hand for us to begin. The gravel cracked beneath our feet, making me look at the lawn that would be softer against my feet. I suggested we walk around the house, which made Marta nod her head in silent exchange. I could tell there was something on her mind, but I knew she would tell me the truth in time. My hands let itself go deep in my trouser pockets, legs swinging forward with certain ease. I had that comfortable feeling again, like things were too good to be true. “You walk around here often?”

“Not alone, no.”

“Why? If you don’t mind me asking?”

“A part of me wonders if it is safe.”

“Staying inside is any safer?”

“I guess you’re right,” she stated in a dejected voice. “Maybe I shouldn’t be reading all those murder mysteries.”

“I think all that time with Harlan wouldn’t help.” I tilted my chest in her direction, giving her a good look before I asked a certain question. “You ever think he would do it?”

“Do what?”

“Murder someone,” I droned out slowly. Marta quirked up an eyebrow in silent question. “He would be good at it, wouldn’t he? I mean, he would be the kind of person to fake his own death as well.”

“I’ve been hearing rumours online that some people think so.”

“But he didn’t.”

“No,” she stated softly. “He didn’t.”

“Any of those fans bother you?”

“I’ve been hiding here.” She walked closer beside me once we struck up a ruddy dirt path. “I wouldn’t know.”

“Hiding?”

“A little.”

“You ever wish you could leave this place, Marta?” She rubbed her hands down the sides of her arms, letting her gaze go forward to the end of the path that would inevitably dip downwards.

“Go where?” she hushed out gravely. “Where people would recognize me? Where the Thrombey’s would find me?”

“And do _what_ exactly?”

“Harass me.”

“They botherin’ ya?” I asked her in a lower tone of voice, finding myself leaning into the side of Marta without realizing it. “Should I be worried?”

“You don’t have to worry about me, Benoit.”

“No?”

“I can take care of myself,” she stated with an independent air. The forest was darker here, making Marta stop in her tracks. “It will be night soon. We should turn in. I don’t have a flashlight.”

“We got our phones.”

“I’ve seen your phone!” she teased. “It would get us no where.” She positioned her feet to stand in front of me. “And your i-pod,” she laughed. “When did that come out again?”

“Hey, it still works!”

“Sure,” she chuckled, and then turned herself around to walk past me, barely brushing over my shoulder in the process. I followed her, stretching out my legs so I could stay on the same path as her. It took me a bit to bring myself to her side, but once I did, I knew it felt it just right.

“I get the sense that you like teasing me.”

Marta pulled her hands out of her coat pockets, rubbing them together to maintain some warmth. She chose not to answer my question, simply tilting her head to the right to glance at my profile. I walked silently beside her, distrusting myself from saying anything further. The lights of her estate glowed in the darkness, bringing light to the lush green lawn that was steadily losing its colour in the last of the autumn lighting. I looked behind me to see the sunset was fading, the trees becoming blacker as time went on.

Marta was unusually silent, a thing that made me look at her profile from time to time. _She must be tired,_ I mused, but that didn’t sit right with me. _There is something on her mind, for sure._

We mounted the steps together, and one she reached the front door she dug her hand into her coat pocket to retrieve her key. “The house will be warmer,” she said over her shoulder. I watched her place the key into the lock, turning it sharply to the right, and then she pushed it open for me to go inside. We took our time brushing off our boots on the high carpet, and to Marta’s surprise I helped her with her jacket. “You don’t have too,” she argued back, but let me hold the top of her jacket as she slid one arm out of the sleeve at a time. “Thank you.”

“Where should I hang it up?”

“There is a closet, just here.” She led me towards it, and then reminded me to put my own tweed jacket in there as well. She waited for me to hang up our things, and then with a tilt of her head beckoned me to follow. She stopped at the entrance of the dining room, peaking in there for a moment with a look of satisfaction. “I set up the table while you were upstairs,” she noted. “But we have to start dinner.”

“We will manage.”

She strode past the entrance-way and took me into the kitchen, instantly flipping on the kettle before she took herself to the sink to wash her hands. Her back was too me, looking busy when she really didn’t have too, and that’s when I knew something was wrong for sure. 

“Marta?”

“Yes.”

“Look at me, dear.” She turned around slowly, letting her eyes reach my chest instead of my eyes. “Have I done something to bother ya?”

“No.”

“Ya sure?” I stepped around the counter, bringing myself closer to her. She had her hand wrapped up in a kitchen towel, drying her hands as she watched me approached. “Ya more quieter than usual.”

“Am I?”

“Yeah.” I stopped once I was right in front of her, seeing the faint silhouette of her from the fading light from the kitchen window. “I’m starting to wonder if it's me.”

“No,” she turned her head sharply, bringing her hand to her mouth. “I mean…” She closed her eyes, and that’s when I knew she was lying. “Sort of,” she replied in a groggy voice.

“Want me to leave?”

She shook her head in denial, doing her best to swallow down anything that threatened to come from her stomach. _Like that ham sandwich,_ I secretly thought, and turned my head away to hide my awful smug smile.

“I am acting funny,” she confessed. “It's not your fault.”

“Alright, then.”

“Should we figure out what to make for dinner?”

“Sure thing.” I stepped backwards, taking note of how uncomfortable she looked even though she skilfully evaded my question. One by one I opened her cupboards, inspecting the area with a keen eye. There was a lot of canned vegetables and things, but nothing that caught my interest. Marta moved herself away from me to look inside of the fridge, muttering aloud that there was way too much bacon. I tried to cover my laughter, and then examined the cans of beans that caught my eyes. “Got red beans,” I observed aloud. “And black beans.”

“It's our diet,” she loudly replied over her own shoulder.

“Yeah, but we southern folks like it too.” We looked over our shoulders at the same time, sharing a secret smile that was hard to describe. “Guess we ain’t so different, after all.”

“No.”

She lifted a slab of pork and shook it in the air. “Does this look appealing?”

“Got ya self a skillet?”

“I do.”

I dropped my hands away from the open cupboard and strode confidently towards her. “Now, listen to me! I want you to go into that living room and rest up ya feet. Benoit Blanc is in the kitchen now, and he’s gonna make you a fine tastin’ meal!”

“Like what?”

I stopped in front of her, almost tempted to touch her when we were that close. “Hmmmm,” I hummed with tightly closed lids. Marta wore a smile now, unable to hide it when I was in such a playful mood. “A nice hearty meal that will fill ya stomach.” I laid a light hand over the side of her arm. “Give ya tender pork with a nice side of beans and rice.” I let my hand drag down a portion of her arm before I retracted it back to my own frame, taking note of how soft her fabric was. “Not too spicy?”

“Not too spicy.”

“Sure thing.” I laid a hand on her shoulder to steer her away from the kitchen. “Now you go on down now and treat ya self like a _Queen._ ”

“What?”

“Sit by the fire,” I suggested. “Rest up them feet.”

“Benoit,” she nearly moaned. “I could help.”

“I want you to sit and rest.”

“And do what?”

“Read.”

She had no choice but to leave the kitchen, though she nearly sulked about it once she stood on the other side of the kitchen entrance-way. “I need to be useful.”

“Oh,” I hummed out. “I am sure you will make yourself useful a little later.” I gave her a playful wink and then turned away from Marta to start our dinner.

* * *

I was softly singing to the lyrics as I spooned the rice onto the set of clean plates, nodding my head from side to side as the peppy tune continued to play in the background. I stealthily had my headphones on, not letting Marta hear my odd taste in music. She probably had this preconceived notion that all I listened to was country music, but I had a varied taste, and with it came all sorts of things. Heat rose up from the plate of rice, and then I turned my back to it to retrieve the piping hot skillet I left on the oven. When I turned around Marta was there, forcing a startled gasp escape my lips. “Marta?” I said much too loudly, since the music skewed the volume around me. “Where you standin’ there the whole time?”

“No.” She darted her eyes away from me suspiciously. “Only a little.”

“Geez,” I grunted out, after I pulled the headphones out of my ears.

“You don’t have a bad singing voice.” Her lips quirked upwards until a light crinkling of her cheeks told me she was trying to hold back a smile. “You were having fun.”

“Yeah, well…”

“Do you need any helping dishing it out?”

“I was hoping you could find something to drink for us. A little bit more classy than a can of diet coke.”

“I can go in the cellar.”

“Oh?”

“Wine?”

“Uhhhh.” I lowered my hands, wondering if it was safe to have alcohol around Marta. “Sure?”

“You don’t drink?”

“Oh, I drink,” I assured her with a proud look about me. “No, the wine will be just fine.”

“Red?”

“Red will go nice with our meal.” Marta turned her back to me swiftly and then strode around the archway of the kitchen doorway and down the hall. I looked down at the oven where my small slices of pork were ready, nearly inhaling the scent of spices and flavours that set my tongue all heavy with desire. “Here’s hoping she’ll like it,” I said aloud to myself. “But something is better than nothin’.”

Half convinced I took to spooning out the meat as well, hoping the dinner would go as smoothly as me making dinner for Marta.

It wasn’t long until I was standing in the dining room alone, adjusting the table spread to my liking. The drapes were shut behind me, which meant the only source of light was the two lamps on the far end of the room and a tall candle in the center of the dining table. I moved myself away from the table to brush my hand down the front of my shirt nervously, and then fidgeted with the thick strap of my black suspenders. I swallowed hard, knowing it was nothing but nerves that were consuming me. “I hope I don’t mess this up,” I mumbled to myself, only to hear a sound coming down the hallway to signal Marta was coming. “Don’t say anything stupid.” I went over to my chair to pull it out, deciding to be seated by the time she comes. “Don’t do anything stupid too.” I sat down, but the nerves were too much to contain. I was just pushing back my chair when Marta approached, and once she caught sight of me, I stood directly to my feet. “Found wine?”

“I did.” She held up the bottle with an air of triumphant, and then took note of the wine glasses I had already fetched for her. “This looks lovely.”

I went around to her side of the table and pushed back her chair. “Have a seat. Thank you very much for ya kind comment too.” She settled the wine bottle down on the table and then readjusted the back of her dress before she took a seat. She let me push in the chair with an air of embarrassment. “We Southerners like to treat our women special,” I tried to explain to her. “Ya feeling comfortable, Marta?”

“Yes,” she replied in a breathless voice. I slowly went around the table, rubbing my hand down my dress shirt once again. I tried to quiet down my nerves by the time I took my seat in front of her, though my gaze wavered once it settled on her own. “Do you mind opening it?”

I watched her hand point towards the bottle, so I instantly lifted it up with one hand. A vintage wooden corkscrew was left on the table beside it, urging me to dig it deep inside of the brown cork before I started to wind it carefully. Marta watched me in silence, simply letting her fingers brush back her hair as she patiently waited for it to be open. “Is this a normal thing?”

“What is?”

“The table all decorated this way? The wine?”

“No.” She brushed her fingers through the last of her hair, untangling the ends before it laid over the front of her shoulders. “I’ve been microwaving most of my dinners to be honest.”

“Marta!”

“It’s only for myself.”

“Yeah, but ya got to take care of yourself,” I chided. “Ya young, yeah, but it ain’t gonna last for’ver!”

The cork popped off, and I stood quickly to my feet so I could pour out the wine for Marta first. She watched me carefully, letting her eyes look at me from top to bottom with a certain look in her eyes. “Want it to the rim?”

“No, not yet.”

“Don’t want to get ya drunk,” I taunted with a sparkle to my eyes. “Not yet, at least.”

“Benoit!” she scolded. “I thought you were a gentleman.”

“I am!”

She made a sound of disbelief from the corner of her mouth as she leaned back into her seat. “You won’t see it tonight.”

“Then why’d ya get a big ol’ bottle like this one?” I brought the bottle down to my glass this time, pouring an amble amount to satisfy me. “Dig in!” I yelled out, and then fetched my knife and fork to eat my hard earned meal. I was the first to take up the fork and dig it into my plate, but Marta followed soon enough. “Wish we could have a nice pie with this.”

“What kind?”

“My ma used to make butternut squash pie!” I yelled out, too giddy to hold back my excitement. “It had pecan crust to it too.”

“I’ve never heard of that one before.”

“And my grandma on me dad’s side, well, he’d go visit ‘er and bring back…” I paused to hold back my smile. “…apple pie with these big ol’ chunks of apple.” I could feel my eyes lighting up, remembering happier days of my youth. “And then there’d be this donut shop ‘round the house. Every Monday we’d go down there. Be right after work, and me dad would pile us in his truck and we… now, why you laughing?”

“Benoit, you look over the moon!”

“Dem some good donuts.” She laughed a little louder, remarking on how my Southern accent was going stronger by the second. “Caint help it sometimes.”

“Benoit!” she practically laughed, and then leaned her elbow over the table to hold up her head. “Oh, you are making me laugh so hard my stomach hurts.”

“Must be the childhood mem’ries.”

“Must be.”

“I’ll try and stop now.” I took a hold of a cloth napkin and dabbed it over my mouth, trying to compose myself since my nerves were acting up again.

“I could understand you, Benoit.”

“Hmph.”

“The heavy accent just came out of nowhere once you started to talk about food.”

“I love food!”

“Oh, I know.”

“I love it so much I think I’d be a cook if it wasn’t for this profession I’d fallen into.”

“I imagine so.”

“If you have me around, Marta, I’d cook every meal for ya three times a day.”

“Oh, that would be lovely,” she remarked with a peppiness to her voice.

“Full-time cook.”

“Yes,” she surmised. “I would like that a lot. It would beat microwaved dinner any day.”

“Personal cook and a companion. How does that sound?” I leaned forward in my seat, letting my elbows rest on the table. “We could switch roles, Marta! I’d say ya Harlan now.”

“And instead of hired register nurse I get a cook, is that it?”

“It sure is!”

“Okay, it could work.”

“Just got to tell me your favourite meals,” I surmised aloud. “Add your favourite food onto the grocery list and ya set.” I leaned the side of my head into the palm of my hand and looked down at my untouched wine glass. A curious smile came across my face once I saw that Marta’s plate was nearly empty. “Ya eat fast.”

“I was hungry.”

“Cuz you didn’t eat all of your sandwich.”

“No.”

I reached for my wine glass with my left hand and took a light sip to find it bursting with flavour. “It's good.”

“I thought so too.”

“I can only hope you are enjoying your meal,” I softly stated with downcast eyes that betrayed my nervousness. “I tried my best.”

“Benoit, I really like it. I am sorry for not saying it sooner, but you were so distracting with your rambles about food.”

“Good ol’ country food.”

“Yes.”

“Suppose ya right.”

“Benoit?”

“Uh huh. What is it, honey?”

“I like you this way.”

“Why thank you, darlin’.”

She took a hold of her wine glass and took a long sip of it, keenly aware of how hard I was watching her. Marta placed the cup down and idly strung her fingers through her hair, letting her tongue drag over her bottom lip to savour the taste of her wine. The lipstick was gone and all I could see was the natural hue of her lips, making my eyes focus there for longer than it should. “Eat,” Marta chided lightly. “I’m nearly done your food.”

“I just wish we had dessert.”

“The wine can be our dessert,” she taunted. “We have lots of it.”

“Too much.”

“Drink up.” She rose out of her chair to refill my wine class, wearing a naughty look as she brought the dark red wine to the very rim. “I want to see the wild side of Benoit.”

“Ya already seen it.”

“No,” she chuckled out lightly. “I haven’t.”

“Don’t want to go barking up the wrong tree,” I warned, before I stuffed my fork into my mouth. It was a warning for sure. The last thing I needed was too lose all self-control around Marta, I was already seeing her more as a friend, and I knew for a fact that wine wouldn’t help one bit. “Probably turn in early tonight.”

“You’re tired.”

“No, not really.” Marta laid her fork and knife down on her empty plate. “I think it’s a good idea, that’s all.”

“Oh.”

“But I’ll see ya in the mornin’. We can go for a walk again, if you’d like.”

“I would _love_ that,” she cooed out softly, making me look at her more carefully to see a shine to her eyes. The wine was taking a hold of her already, something that put me on my guard. “Hopefully the weather will be nicer.”

“Doubt another storm comin’.”

“Yeah.”

We sat still for a moment, simply staring into each other’s eyes across the dining table. I felt something pulling me into her gaze, aware of how long it lingered as she looked at my whole visage. She batted her eyelashes eventually, lowering her gaze to the wine glass that was in her hand. “I think I should turn in early too,” she mouthed out slowly. “And not have anymore of this wine.”

“A waste.”

“It is good.”

“Too good! How old is it anyways?”

“About ten years,” she droned out in a bored voice, as she tilted the bottle a little closer to her. “Not as vintage as the others.”

“Ya didn’t take out a vintage one for us, hun. My, my! Am I offended?”

“Benoit,” she cried out with laughter. “You want me to put this back?”

“I thought I was special?” She tilted her head back to look at the ceiling, closing her eyes to hold back her emotions. “And you go and get this… this ten-year ol’ bottle of wine.”

“You want the old stuff, cause I’ll get it!”

“I want the most expensive thing Harlan has in the cellar,” I teased, which made Marta dip her head downwards to settle it in the palms of her hands. “Ya laughing at me?”

“Benoit, you are going to make me sick.”

“Good! That’s karma for ya.”

“Oh God.” She moved away from the table and began to pace the room, trying to compose herself before laughter started up again. I watched her as I took deep sips of the wine, letting it rest over my palette before I leisurely swallowed it down. Marta returned to her chair after a while, pulling it backwards, and to my surprise she leaned forward with her hands resting over the back of her chair. “Were you always this funny?”

“I’m not sure,” I tiredly replied, as I scratched the side of my face. “We was in a high stress situation. They kept saying it was an open and shut case, but it was far from it! It was dangerous business. A little twisted, a little dark, and without a doubt one of the most convoluted plots I e’er stumbled upon.” Marta leaned against the back of the chair, letting her hazel eyes stare hard at me. “What?”

“You going on and on.”

I smirked at her, knowing she was just teasing me. “Marta! I think ya flirting with me.”

“Now, I think the wine is talking.”

“Ya are!”

“I’m really not,” she replied stiffly.

“Uh huh.” She cut her eyes at me. “Sure,” I droned out slowly, with a terrible quirk of my lip. “Think ya foolin’ me.”

She moved around her chair and took a seat, daringly leaning over the table to bring herself closer to me. She glanced at my half empty plate and my wine glass that took a good beating by me. “You drank more than you have eaten,” she observed. “Eat.”

“Being a kind nurse, Marta?”

“Yes.” She pushed the plate closer to my chest and urged me to finish my meal. “I’m going to clear up the table.”

“I could do it.”

“No, you are eating,” she scolded me in a voice she rarely used on me. “And I’ll go get you some water too.”

“I don’t need no water.”

“Water,” she stated in a firm voice that meant no arguing.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“There it is,” she stated with a raised eyebrow at me. “I prefer that too Queen any day.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I murmured in a lower voice, and then pointed my fork at her with a slight wave. “I’ll finish up my dinner now.”

“I’ll be back in a few.”

“And I’ll be counting!” I shouted out, before she rounded the corner of the doorway. “One, two, three!” Marta poked her head around the doorway with a quick roll of the eye. “Four!”

“Finish your food, Benoit.”

“Flirting with me, and all.” I waved my fork at her from side to side. “I see right through it.”

“You need water,” she sighed out, and then left me to retrieve the aid I clearly needed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I still have no plot in mind, so I am just winging it. Not sure how much longer I can maintain a slow burn. Hmmm guess we will just have to wait and see ;)
> 
> I just changed the settings from "General Audience" to "Mature" so that should give you a good indication of where I"m going with this.


	4. Nice and Slow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's late at night when Marta invites Benoit into her bedroom. It is there that their friendly conversations takes a new turn.

The house was uncomfortably quiet. Marta was away washing up the dishes, leaving me with unsettled thoughts. The glass of water did some good for me, though it wasn’t like I was drunk anyways.

My attention was focused on the flickering flame, taking in the long stalk white candle in the center of the dining table. This was the first time I had spent with Marta in over a year, and yet, our time together- our conversations had come so easily it left me stumped for the moment. So, Marta leaving me in the dining room for a bit was necessary for me to recollect my thoughts.

I had admittedly flirted with her in a way, being almost silly actually. There was something about her smiling and laughing that filled me with joy, it was something Marta most desperately needed. I knew it had been a long, hard year for her. There were still a lot of gaps she left out about her life, but I knew in time she would fill it up for me. _Only a matter of time,_ I thought, while I leaned further back against my chair. _She will open up to me soon enough._

There was soft brushing against the front door, sending me to my feet to abandon the dining room and head towards the front of the house. I got the sense it was the dogs trying to come in, so I took my time unlocking the bolted door before I gave it a light crack; three black dogs forced the front of their snout through the doorway, persuading me to open it wider to send them pounding into the house with their dirty paws and all. The door opened wider to take in the pitch-black front yard; a cold gust of air blew at the front of my shirt, sending the tips of my hair blowing upwards as I gazed into the distant horizon. I felt so far from home at that moment, but it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. Eventually I closed the door and decided to seek out Marta for her much-desired company.

“You let the dogs in,” she shouted over her shoulder, as she was drying off the last of her dishes. “I heard them come in.”

“You don’t mind?”

“No.”

She turned around slowly, offering me a feeble smile that disguised her true line of thoughts. “You feeling better?”

“Much better.” I strode into her room with one hand deep inside of my trouser pocket, the other idly scratched against the front of my chest in a tired way. It was getting late, and I was feeling the greatest need to stretch myself across the bed and have a good tumble. “Sorry the way I was acting earlier,” I gently stated. “Teasing you and all.”

“It doesn’t matter.” She dropped the striped blue and white towel upon the counter-top, letting it form into an untidy ball before she began to roll down the sleeves to her shirt. Her hair was tied up neatly in a pony-tail, the side of her face glowing from the only lamp on the other side of the kitchen. It was dark in here, uncommonly so, but not enough to put me on guard. “It was nice actually.” She titled her head away from me, letting it focus on the open window that barely cracked open. The moonlight shined through the portion of the room, creating a contrast of shades and colours that was distinctively different from the rest of the house. “No, I had a good time tonight,” she concluded. “Thank you for that.” She let out a small sigh as she stepped forward, letting her hands nervously fidget with each other. “I am happy,” she stated lowly. “For your company. I think, its starting to make me realize why Harlan wanted me as a friend. The house is so large.” She blinked dazzlingly, batting them quickly as her thoughts wandered away from her. “It can be _lonely._ ”

“It can be.”

The telephone rang off in the distance, making Marta quietly excuse herself to fetch the house phone. I stayed in the center of the kitchen feeling like an outright fool, probably because every time we were making progress something happened. I wondered what exactly my end goal was, though I knew I wanted to see Marta a little bit happier. If I was the one making her happy, well, I thought that would be a good thing. I let my hands slip deep inside of my trouser pockets, letting my head tilt in the direction of the open doorway where I could hear the faint sound of Marta speaking over the telephone. Feeling a little chilly I left the room to go upstairs, deciding it would be wise to throw on a sweater to keep me warm. I was just passing the main hallway when I heard the faint mention of my name, making me stop in my tracks to try and ease drop a little more. The rest of her words were faint, however, and since she was in the living room, I thought it was best to let Marta be. I could only hope she would tell me soon enough, knowing that whoever was on the phone with her she must have trusted dearly.

When I reached the top of the staircase, I looked down the long hallway, staring at the green carpeted floor where I once inspected nearly a year ago. My eyes settled on the trap door, wondering if Marta was truly safe in this house. After all, it contained an awful amount of secrets. “My imagination is getting ahead of itself,” I mumbled to myself. Slowly I crept on down the hallway, propping open my door to see that I had left the window open a crack all along. I wandered over it in the darkness of my room, glancing over the empty lawn in the dead of night. There was no one around here for miles, making me feel like the desolation, such loneliness was taking a toll on my nerves. I began to wonder how Marta could live alone here for so long, curious how paranoia or madness had not seized her precious mind yet. A grey v-neck sweater was thrown on, and once I patted it down nicely I decided to head downstairs. A quick glance at my phone told me there were still no messages, so with that comforting thought I elected to head down-stairs again.

“You changed?” Marta asked me, once she caught sight of me. I was halfway down the staircase, only stopping once I heard the soft breaths of her two dogs that were currently around her. “It’s getting colder.”

“Too cold,” I quietly agreed with her. “Everything alright?”

She raised up her eyebrows in question, only to realize I was referring to the phone call. Marta slowly stepped to the bottom of the staircase to meet me halfway. “It was only my mother. She wants to stay a couple more days with her friend. She was worried about me being alone, but then she heard I had a friend over.”

“You tell her your friend is a _man_ , Marta?”

She tilted her chin upwards in rebellion. “I might have let it slip.” She took a step back once I reached the landing of the staircase, wanting to create some space between us. “She remember I spoke of you often, so she wasn’t surprised.” Marta watched my slow nod of the head, noticing the way I used my hand to stroke my bottom lip to prevent a smile from coming along. _She spoke of me often,_ I considered, and took that as a good sign.

“Would you like something hot to drink?”

“What you have in mind?”

“I like to have hot chocolate at this time of night.”

“It's about nine, am I right?”

“Just about.”

“Lead the way,” I teased, with a gentle wave of the hand. Marta took the lead, awaking the dogs from their slumber to follow the master of the house as well. We were in the kitchen once again, a regular occurrence, which sent me straight towards the fridge to pull out a carton of milk. Marta had her back to me to take out a pot, casually remarking it wouldn’t take long for us to make our hot beverages before we turned in for the night. I find myself at her side soon enough, standing directly in front of the stove-top where she was pouring out the milk that I had kindly offered her. The distance between us was closed for once, allowing me to lean a bit of my weight against the side of her arm. The dogs abandoned the kitchen out of boredom, leaving us alone with a deafening silence that was almost comforting in a way.

“How do you feel about your mother being gone?”

“She will be back by this time next week.”

“Mighty long time,” I drawled out slowly with a steady look at her profile. “Too be leaving you alone.”

“I have you here,” she chirped up happily. She forced her gaze onto my profile this time, and then let her gaze dropped once she saw me turn my head in her direction. She licked the bottom of her lip nervously, and then forced it to the pot that was barely bubbling. “But I hope I’m not forcing you to stay.”

“Marta, it was I that came around to visit you.”

“I only…” She stopped herself to shift her body weight off me. “I don’t want you to ever feel sorry for me,” she tried to explain. “For living here alone.”

“Is that what you think?”

“In the back of my head, yeah.”

“You aren’t some pity case, Marta,” I assured her. “I came here because I cared for ya.” I was tempted to reach out my arm and touch her, but I thought that would make Marta instantly recoil from me. “I think you are a kind-hearted person that don’t _deserve_ to be so alone. I will stay with ya for as long as I can.”

“Until your next case?”

“Yeah,” I droned out from the corner of my mouth. “Something like that.”

The milk was starting to bubble, sending Marta away from me to retrieve the large black mug she had selected for myself. She wore a smug smile as she lifted her own white mug, letting me read the telling phrase: “My house, my rules, my coffee.” She placed her mug next to mine, letting her smug smile shine brighter for some unknown reason.

“But it's not coffee today," I cleverly pointed out.

She laughed at my words and brought her hand upwards to push it into my strong arm. I was barely immovable by her touch, something that she caught right away. Her eyes flickered upwards from the side of my arm to my blue eyes and I knew she could see the truth shining from them. “Not expecting me to be so strong?”

She opened her mouth, but nothing came out of it, making her blush all of a sudden in embarrassment.

“Hey, Marta?”

“I thought you would at least move.” I stretched out my neck to let out a howl of laughter, knowing Marta was speaking the honest to God truth. 

“Well, I try to stay fit the best way I can,” I admitted aloud, while I scratched the front of my neck. “Since I am getting up there in years, and all.” I stepped a little closer to her unknowingly, resting the palm of my hand over the corner of the stove-top. I took my time looking down at Marta, keenly aware of the colour rising to her cheeks. “Though I’d like to think that I’m not _that_ old.”

“You’re not Harlan’s age.”

“Sure ain’t.” Marta squinted her eyes at me with pleasure, and then tilted her head to the far left so she could let it hover over her shoulder. She stretched out an arm, letting two fingers tilt a tiny knob to shut off the stove. “Time for a hot one?”

“I think we can have our hot chocolate before we turn in for the night. If you are cold let me know, and I will get some heavier blankets for you.”

“Will do.”

She moved to the side to take a hold of a small tin of hot chocolate powder, ignoring my steady gaze as she took a scoopful and plopped it into our cups. I stepped a little closer to her, wanting to be nearer to Marta. It felt like she was a magnet sometimes, kept pulling me in without ever realizing it. “Thanks for taking care of me,” I hushed out, just over her shoulder.

“I could say the same for you.”

I looked down at her small form, letting my eyes trail over her exposed neck, liking her hair tied up nicely to let me see the whole of her face. I was dumbstruck by the sight of her, finding my feet unable to move. Marta turned around with my cup at the ready, and she must have noticed the look in my eyes for she instantly lowered her gaze. “Marta,” I breathed out, but no other words would come.

“Here’s your cup.” She waited for me to lift my hands, and then gently placed it inside of it. “Let’s go somewhere else.” She turned her back to me, quietly retrieving her cup, and then she led me out of the kitchen with a slightly calmer demeanour than myself. She went around the house softly shutting off the lights, after that she asked me to go around the house to blow out any last candles and shut the windows closed. I heard her inspecting the lock to the front door to make sure it was shut, taking any necessary precautions since she lived in this big ol’ mansion all by herself. Eventually we met each other at the foot of the staircase, and to my surprised she suggested we go into her room. “Cozier,” was all that she said, and then leaned heavily against the handrail as she led me upstairs. I followed her, feeling my cheeks burn red for the shameful thoughts that were running through my mind. The stairs creaked loudly underneath our trampling feet and by the time we reached the top I wasn’t ready to go into her room just yet. She slipped through the open doorway easily, but I hesitated outside with my piping hot cup of hot chocolate in hand. “We just friends,” I reminded myself, and then forced one foot forward to cross over the threshold of her room.

Marta was sitting over her bed, legs crossed casually as she leaned her back against the headboard. A multitude of pillows supported her small back, making her look like a regal Queen in all her glory. Her pajamas were at the end of her bed: long plaid black and white pants with a long sleeved shirt of light lavender. I thought her clothes looked warm enough for tonight, especially when I saw the thick duvet atop of her bed. “You can sit anywhere,” she suggested, and pointed at a chair near a desk. “My bed too,” she said in a smaller voice, with a slight wave to the end of the bed where there was enough room for me to be seated. “I want you to be comfy.”

“Mighty kind of you.”

“You would have done the same.” She bit down at her bottom lip in deep mediation. “You live alone, don’t you?”

“Sure do.”

“You like it?”

“I like to be independent,” I casually remarked. “To come and go as I please, especially since I travel all ‘round the country for business.”

“Ever internationally?”

“On them rare occasions, yes.”

She took a deep sip of her hot cocoa, eyes fluttering downwards in secret delight. “This will warm me up,” she proclaimed with confidence. “Harlan’s place can get so cold.”

“Your place,” I corrected her.

“It will always be Harlan's to me,” she reflected aloud. “I can never claim it as my own, not really.”

“But his children do.”

“Yes.”

“They ever come around here?”

“They aren’t allowed,” she stated with confidence. “I won’t let them past the security sector, not unless I want them too.” She took another sip of her hot beverage. “I’ve been talking to Walt more.”

“Oh?”

“I have been letting him have more say in the business of his father's novels. After all, he has far more experience then me.”

“Yeah, but you still managing things?”

“Unfortunately for him, yes.” Her eyebrows lowered until her face took on a darker tone. “I’ll never forgive him for coming to my house and threatening me.” She lifted her chin, directing those curious hazel eyes in my direction. “I mean I do, but I can’t forget it. He was desperate yes, but that was my mom he was threatening.”

“Yeah, but she's alright now,” I reminded Marta. “Everything is all settled nicely.”

“Uh huh,” she said under her breath. “So, I want Walt to have a say, but at the same time I can’t trust him fully. Does that make sense?”

“Not wanting to be stabbed in the back,” I deduced aloud. “Logical assumption. What about the rest of the family?”

“What about them?”

“You talk to them?”

“I text Meg every now and then.” She cupped the side of her mug peacefully, letting her thumb stroke the surface in slow motions. “We are pretty much the same age.”

“Ya young.”

“Yeah, we are,” Marta laughed out. “And we got along real well when Harlan was alive.” She licked at her bottom lip, and then lowered her chin. “I feel like I can talk to you about anything.”

“I have been told I am a good listener,” I droned out slowly. “Qualities that make me a good detective.”

“You are a good listener,” she agreed with me. “And very kind! I know you say that I am, but I think…” She lowered the lids to her eyes, letting her knee curl upwards so she could rest her chin atop of it. “…you are as well.” Her hand rested over her lap, trying to pat down her dress so she wouldn’t appear indecent. Marta looked drowsy now, almost ready to curl up in a ball and fall asleep right in front of me. I took a long sip of my hot chocolate, and then gazed down at my feet that were touching her carpeted floor. “Have you ever been married, Benoit?”

“I haven’t.”

My gaze remained on the floor, almost feeling ashamed by my confession. “I was with a girl for a long time, but things didn’t work out. She was an officer… we met in our line of business.”

“Why didn’t it work out?”

“You know when you are compatible and you got great chemistry, but it's like the stars aren’t aligning to your favour? It was sort of like that. We wanted different things in life, and maybe I am old-fashioned, but we couldn’t see things eye to eye.” I took another sip of my hot chocolate, wanting to drown out the rest of rambles.

“Do you still talk to her?”

“She’s married now,” I drawled out slowly. “With an officer like her.”

“And you?”

“I’m still lookin’.” I gave her a cheeky grin, and then forced my gaze away from her. “How about you?”

“I’m not looking.”

“Oh?”

“I don’t have the energy for that,” she sighed aloud. “I guess they will have to come find me.”

“Ha!” I laughed out sharply. “Yeah, that sounds like you.” I moved back, letting myself be seated comfortably at the edge of the bed. “Love is a fickle thing though. Sure, its real easy to fall into it, but I am starting to think the best way is to have it nice and slow.”

“Nice and slow?”

“Yeah, ya got to _ease_ into it.” She smirked at my words, noticing the hand movement I made as I stated my opinion. “The old fashioned way.”

“Oh, Benoit,” she muttered out.

“I see no reason to rush into it.” I watched her drink the last of her hot chocolate, licking her lips in the process before she settled it neatly on her bed-stand. “Its like a nice pot of stew. You let it simmer for hours, giving it a twirl when ya need taa.” She chuckled at my words, enjoying my strange analogy. “Keep a close eye on it, give it care when ya need too, but…”

“Yes?”

“It has to happen naturally. Say for example I’d give you a kiss right here and now. It wouldn’t work, would it?” I found the corner of my lip curl into a smile when I saw her eyes widened dramatically. “Now, would it?”

“I…”

“It would feel forced,” I continued. “It wouldn’t have the magic it was supposed too. And say… now, say we made love right here and now.” I paused, feeling a dryness come over my throat. “As much as we would enjoy it, well, it wouldn’t feel right. Ya can’t force these things, you see. It has too come naturally! That’s all there is too it.” I shrugged my shoulders at her. “What do you think, Marta?”

“I think you are right.”

“That’s all there is too it,” I mumbled out softly. I took one last sip of my beverage and then settled it down onto my lap. An awkward silence followed, making me wonder if I took things too far. “You want me to take your mug? I could put it downstairs.”

“It's too dark.”

“Huh?”

“I don’t want you to go all the way downstairs just to put my mug away.”

“Our mug,” I emphasized, and then waved my mug high in the air for her to see. “I don’t mind.”

“It’s a kind gesture, but I am fine Benoit.”

“Guess I will say my goodnight then.” I stood to my feet with my empty mug in hand. “See ya in the mornin’.”

“Yes.”

“Mind if I get another hug from ya?” She uncurled her legs and went onto her knees to be at a higher level. I came forward and bent my knees nice and low to wrap my arms around her in a tight embrace. We held it longer than the first time, making a warmness come over me, knowing that she was willing to hold me in her arms at last. “Thank you, Marta.”

She let a hand rest over my outer arm, giving me a smile that truly warmed my heart. “Night.”

“Sleep well.”

“If you need anything just knock on my door,” she exclaimed with a slow rubbing to my arm. “Okay?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She tilted her head downwards, trying to shield her happy smile from me. “Is it alright if I call you Ben from now one?”

“Sure, or Benny.”

“Okay.”

“What ever you desire, Marta. After all, I am purely here to please ya.”

Her face gave away her thoughts, and then she licked the bottom of her lip before she fell back into her bed. “Night, Ben,” she hushed out shyly, and made her best efforts to cover herself in blankets even though she was still wearing her evening clothes.

“I’ll show myself out.”

She gave a little wave in my direction, and with that I climbed off the side of her bed and headed towards the door. “Night, darlin’,” I muttered softly, and with that I closed the door behind me.


	5. Detective Work

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next morning Benoit Blanc does a little detective work against Marta. As he learns more about her discomforts whenever she leaves her estate, he finds his protective nature soaring to new levels.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all,
> 
> I do apologize for the delay. The corona-virus had an affect on my life, just as I imagine it has impacted yours as well. I found myself unable to engage in any fan-fic writing over the last several months. I posted a relatively short chapter for today, but once I get in the swing of things it should be longer. 
> 
> Anyways, thanks for sticking with me :)

“When you eliminate the impossible…” I bent down to retrieve my pajama pants that fell off the edge of the bed. A low groan escaped the corner of my mouth, a sound from sheer exhaustion. “When you eliminate the impossible,” I stated in an even louder tone of voice. My pants were tightly balled up in my right hand, for I was beyond frustrated with myself. “Why can’t I remember it?”

I looked over my shoulder to make sure my bedroom door was closed. The last thing I needed was for Marta to think I was going insane. I suppose it was natural for a man like me to talk aloud, after all, I do it all the time. My lips contorted downwards, for it seemed that I was always concerned about Marta’s opinion of me.

“Sweet beans,” I mumbled under my breath. “I can’t remember the line.”

My pants were then folded up neatly, which matched the pristine-like condition of the rest of my bedroom. I made sure my sheets were folded and made up nicely for Marta. I did not want her to have a bad opinion of me, especially since she was kind enough to let me stay over for a couple of days. It was interesting though, her not giving me a timeline of when she wanted me to be gone. I knew her mother would return to the house six days from now, so did she expect me to stay that long? And was I willing to do it?

“I sure am,” I muttered under my breath before a twisted smile that quickly followed it. My fingers reached upwards to stroke the edge of my chin, noticing it was so time for me to shave. There was no way in hell I would let myself look all grizzly before her. No, I would only look my best for Marta. Slowly I strode across the room in only my boxers, letting my hand brush back the tiny bit of bangs away from my forehead. It was cold in my room, but not enough for me to be dressing myself just yet. I needed to take a shower, and more importantly pick out an outfit for the day.

A quick glance at my bed-stand showed me it was just after seven o’clock, a normal time for me to be up and ready for the day. I’m a morning person, always have been, though a part of me sensed that Marta was quite the opposite.

The bathroom light flickered on, and with a quick glance I saw that I had everything I needed to take a nice hot shower. “Here’s hoping for a good day,” I sighed out wearily. Nerves were clinging to me again, grasping itself hard around me. The fact is, Marta makes me nervous. I swallowed hard at the thought of it. My fingers reached up to tap the side of the door frame, letting my gaze idly linger over the clean bathtub that was some distance from me. “But I make her nervous too,” I acknowledged aloud. “When you eliminate the impossible… ah shucks. I can’t remember the damn thing.” My head shook from side to side grievously. “What’s happening to my poor mind?” I looked over my shoulder to see my suit case wide open. “I must be getting old.”

I stepped into the bathroom slowly, only to close the door firmly behind me. I glanced to my right to see the clear mirror, exposing every feature of my body. I took in my well sculpted jawline, the bright lucid colour to my aqua blue eyes. I had put on weight over the years, but my body was still as strong as ever. There was a time when my muscles were toned, but now they had lost that definition that I had when I was a young man. There was still some strength to me though, and I thought that sure was a blessing at least. My hand reached upwards to brush at my dishevelled blonde hair, watching the fluorescent light change its hue to almost a pale bleach blonde. My skin was pale from lack of sun, something that made my left hand hover over my chest to examine the creamy white shade. My lips pursed inwardly, for self-doubt soon overwhelmed me. “Who would ever want to get with a man like me?” I asked aloud in a slow, southern drawl. My head shook itself from left to right stiffly. “No one,” I told myself, and with that I strode over to the bathtub to turn on the tap.

* * *

The door was wide open when I came downstairs. A faint sound of dogs barking echoed across the front lawn of Marta’s estate. I could see the dim silhouette of her in the distance, her arms crossed tightly over her chest as she stared across her property. She was a few steps down, her beige slippers pressed firmly against the pale grey stones as she stood there in silent contemplation. The dogs barking was loud enough for her not to notice me, hardly aware that I was standing just in front of the open doorway with my favourite tweed jacket in hand. Slowly I slipped it over my form, and then popped up the collar at the back. I patted my jacket to feel the stiff packaging of cigars still left there, letting a tiny smile play upon my face. Marta was still motionless, while Harlan’s dogs sprinted across the front yard. I could see the shadows of her tiny car in the gravel parking lot, and I could not help that warm fuzzy feeling to find my rental car stationed there as well. Bravery overtook me, so I slammed the front door behind me to get a hold of her attention at once. “Morning!” I shouted out, with a giant smile that showed my true pleasure at seeing her. “Fine morning, ain’t it?”

“Ben,” she responded with an unexpected softness to her voice.

The sudden nickname took me off guard, forcing my feet to plant themselves on the top step of her house. Marta rubbed her small hands over the tops of her arms, feeling the soft fabric to her navy-blue shawl that covered her form completely.

“Well, how’d you do?” I said with utter charm, once my wits returned to me.

She nodded her head before replying, “Good.” Her hand waved upwards, beckoning me forward. “I wasn’t sure if you’d be up yet.”

“I’m an early riser,” I informed her, as I walked down the last few steps. “You?”

“I have to be now.” She dropped her arms to the sides, allowing them to be covered completely by her shawl. “The dogs need to get their exercise. I can understand the reason Harlan wanted help.” She tried not to laugh as she added, “These dogs are a handful.”

I brought myself beside her, but I chose not to look in her direction. “What about help from Fran?” I inquired, while sticking my hands deep into my trouser pockets.

“No,” Marta quickly shut down. “I can take care of myself.”

“But you just said…” I stopped myself once Marta turned her gaze in my direction. “No, you’re right.”

“The last thing I need is gossip,” Marta stated with utter crispness. “I would rather be alone. I think my family is enough drama.” She let out a tiny laugh while bringing her hand upwards to brush back her wavy hair. “As much as I love them. Do you have a sister, Benoit?”

“I’m an only child,” I sighed out deeply. “So, I’d say ya lucky.”

“To have a sister?”

“Yeah.” I shrugged my shoulders upwards with an easy smile. “It would be nice growing up with someone.”

“Would you rather a brother or sister?”

“I think…” My hand went upwards to scratch the top of my chest. “The right answer is to say a brother.”

“Uh huh.”

“But I would like a sister. I suppose, I would like to take care of her, you know.”

“A big protective brother.”

“Yeah,” I hushed softly. “I can see myself doing that.”

“You like to protect people?” Marta asked, with her accent growing a tiny bit stronger.

“Well, didn’t I protect you?” I unexpectedly bumped my shoulder against her. “I didn’t lift a finger, but I did.”

Her smile was large and warm once it was directed at me, something that started a strange flutter at the pit of my stomach.

“Say I did.” She laughed at my remark, but Marta decided to not give me an answer. “I scared the living daylights out of Ramsom.”

She laughed at my remark, and did not hesitate to deny it flatly. “You did not,” she giggled. “He is two times your size.”

“Oh, I could have taken him down.”

“No.”

I turned my feet in her direction, staring straight into her eyes. “You don’t believe me?”

“You may be a lot of things, Benoit.” She crossed her arms at me, while trying to suppress a smile. “But you’re not a fighter.”

“How dare you?” I chuckled out. “Smear my _honor_.” I watched her bend down her head, letting her chin just hover over her chest as she tried not to laugh. “I have you know that I could have taken Ransom down easily.” I took a step forward, even though it would mean encroaching upon her space. “I never liked him anyways.”

Marta finally looked up at me, betraying a wide-eyed expression since we were so close. Instinctively she brought her top set of teeth downwards onto her lip, and then lowered her gaze shyly.

“Marta,” I breathed out softly. “Why did you trust him?”

“What do you mean?”

“You got in the car with him that day,” I reminded her. “When the whole family were chasing you.” I lifted a finger to point at her chest. “And you got in his car. Why?”

“I don’t know,” she feebly answered me. “I panicked.”

“Yeah, I saw that,” I slowly drawled out. “But why him?”

“There was no one else.”

She watched the way my head tilted to the side, probably catching that painful flash that flickered through my eyes as we retained eye contact.

Marta voice was faint, almost cracking as she asked: “Would you rather it was you?”

“What do you think, Marta?”

“It never crossed my mind,” she told me honestly. “It should have, but…” She rolled her shoulders backwards defensively. “You were working with the police, and it didn’t seem like a good idea at the time. I know you trusted me. Yes, and you wanted me to work with you, but you understand-”

“-I understand it completely,” I stammered out, even if it meant interrupting her. “But I still wish it was me.”

“Why?” she daringly asked.

“Well, what good would it do to run to Ransom?” I countered. “Although it did help out _our_ case in the end.”

“Yes,” she answered me in a soft, shy-like voice. Her arms pressed themselves against her chest again, a sign that she was experiencing some discomfort. “Yes,” she uttered for the second time in a row. “I should have gone to you.”

“Ah,” I breathed out with some delight. “You ain’t just saying that?”

“No,” she responded in a stern tone of voice. “I meant what I said.” She took a step back to create some space. “The dogs will be out for some time. I think we should turn in.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I happily quipped, in the hopes that it would lighten the mood. A shadow of a smile was enough for me to see she was okay with that nickname, even it was just a little tease. “I look forward to it.”

Marta led the way, and I was more than happy to follow her. In time we were in the main hallway, shadowed by the natural darkness of this part of the estate. The glass panels at the sides of the door gave the hall some light, but not enough for me to catch the expression of Marta’s face. She removed her slippers first, electing to walk across the cold hardwood floor in her bare feet. I followed her into the kitchen, watching the nimble movements of her hands as she clicked on the kettle and opened a drawer in search of something.

“I like something hot for breakfast,” she relayed. “I used to have cereal, but it is not enough to warm me up.”

“I hear ya,” I casually answered her as I leaned my elbows over the top of her crystal clean counter-top. “Anything will do.”

“You mentioned going to the grocery store,” she said with her back to me. “Maybe after this…”

“Sure, why not.”

The tone of her voice, and her incomplete sentences told me that something was wrong with Marta. The longer she had her back to me, the more I began to worry.

I wondered if it was just nerves overwhelming her, but a part of me feared that there was something more than that. I found Marta easy to read from the start, but there was something about her behaviour this morning that puzzled me exceedingly. My eyes narrowed as I watched her pour some hot water into a pot, taking note how slow her movements were as if she was still half-asleep.

“My dear girl,” I exclaimed. “Are you feeling alright?”

“Fine,” she answered with her back to me.

“You not feeling sick, now are ya?”

“No, Benoit,” she quietly chuckled. “I am still waking up.”

She finally turned herself around to face me. “I haven’t had my coffee yet.”

“Same here,” I said with all agreeableness. “You looking mighty fine this morning,” I added, without thinking it through. “If you don’t mind me saying it.”

She looked down at her long shawl with the thin v-neck black t-shirt she was currently wearing. “Oh,” she mumbled. “I…” Her cheeks began to turn a soft hue of red. “I am practically in my pajamas,” she eventually complained.

“No, I saw your pajamas,” I pointed out. “But those were your nice ones. You see, they looked almost brand new. That tells me that-”

“-are you being a little detective?”

“That you either bought it recently, or it’s the kind you wear when you have company.” I slowly walked around the kitchen counter to bring myself closer to her. “Which makes me think what kind of company you’re expecting?”

“None,” she told me with utter bluntness.

My hand rubbed the bottom of my chin profusely as I gave out a low hum. “You had nothing to eat yet, so I don’t know if you’re telling me the truth.”

She smirked at me gleefully, the kind that nearly made me laugh.

“I’ll put something in your stomach and then ask you again.”

“What kind of company were you expecting, Benoit?”

“Me?”

“You thought I was going to have company over?” The kettle popped, and she slyly looked over her shoulder. “You’re a detective, so I will let you figure it out.”

I watched her walk away from me, probably over the moon that she outwitted me for the first time. Oh, Marta was clever, but two could play at that game. I took a seat on the high bar stool, shooting up an arm upwards to rest my chin in the palm of my hand. I enjoyed watching her move about the kitchen, taking note that she was taking out a carton of eggs and a package of bacon.

“What are your deductions, Detective Blanc?” she called out over her shoulder. “Well?”

“The new pajamas tells me you bought them for a special occasion,” I mused aloud. “Now, they are modest-like. The kind that is not mean to _seduce_ me.” Her movements halted for a moment, probably startled by my words. “Now, the lavender colour suggests a homely, peaceful sort of vibe. Now, that ain’t the right word, but that’s what came to me. Again, no intention of seducing a handsome detective that just so happens to be staying at your place.”

“No!” she yelled out, though the small dimples to her cheek when she smiled at me nearly made my heart hammer against my chest.

“So is the plaid pants,” I continued. “It makes me think you bought it for girl’s night out. A sleep over. But then I start to think you are too old for that. You have a sister, but she ain’t likely to throw a party either. Now, you don’t like going out the house. It makes me think you bought the pajamas to stay in.”

“Okay,” she agreed with me, once she laid a frying pan over the stove top. “While you keep making your deductions, Benoit, I want you to make some grits.”

“Stereotyping me,” I pointed out from across the table. “What if I don’t know how to make it?”

“Well, I got the water boiling, so you will have to make something out of it.”

I shook my head at her, realizing why Harlan was so fond of her after all. The girl had some wits to her, and she’s a clever one too.

“As I was saying,” I bellowed out, after I slipped off the high stool. “You bought the pajama set for a particular purpose. Considering you are a millionaire.”

“A little more than that,” she quipped with her back to me, while opening up the package of bacon.

“A little more than that,” I agreed with her. “I was thinking you could get a nice night gown, or something from a top designer. You could even get your initials stitched on the back of your night robe.”

She let out a small giggle to my amusement. “Let me know if you need anything.” Her hand pointed to the pot. “I am afraid I have never made it before.”

I brought myself beside her, leaning into her body ever so slightly as I hushed, “Neither have I.”

“A lie?”

I shrugged my shoulders at her, while wearing a naughty look. “Who knows?”

Marta let out a low sigh of misery. “Because you can’t hurl up the truth.”

“Now, now, Marta.” I patted the top of her shoulder with affection. “You can’t beat yourself up about it. Now, that’s just the way it is.” I let my hand rest over her right shoulder while standing right beside her. “It’s a gift, that’s all.”

“Yeah,” she muttered. “If you say so.”

“I guess I have to make some damn good grits to cheer you up.” I let my hand slide downwards, feeling the softness of her shawl for a brief moment. “I want to see a smile on your face.”

“A smile,” she echoed.

“A large, beaming smile!” I declared. “Just for me.”

“You make me laugh,” she submitted. “So, you will get a smile.”

“I make you laugh?”

“Yes, Benoit.”

“Aw-shucks,” I said with glee. “Well, you make me laugh too.” I glanced away from her to take in the boiling water over the stove-top. “I hope you have the ingredients for this, otherwise we are having eggs and bacon for breakfast.”

“I don’t know if we do.”

“Let me look around for a little bit. If not, we are taking a nice trip over to the grocery store.”

“You don’t mind?” Marta asked in a louder tone of voice, for my head was currently inside of a drawer underneath the countertop to look for the right ingredients. “Going to the store?”

“No, I would love too.”

“It’s not a bit strange?” she persisted with a strain to her voice. “Us going together.”

I looked over my shoulder, watching her grip onto the bottom of her shawl. “No,” I told her confidently. “We can’t starve, can we?” She laughed at my words, enough for me to smile in her direction. “I suspect I’d eat you first.”

“No, you wouldn’t.”

“Oh?”

“No, you would sacrifice yourself for me.”

“How grim our conversation has turned,” I mused aloud. “Talkin’ about cannibalism.” I chuckled under my breath while brushing some boxes over to the side. “But you’re right,” I admitted quietly to myself. “I probably would.”

* * *

Marta’s appearance was quite striking once she got into the rental car with me. For one thing she was wearing all black, and for another she wore a low baseball cap over her head to shield most of her face. Her demeanour had changed as well, though I knew I was not the cause of it. “You alright?” I asked her, once she put on her seat-belt. “You changed?”

“It’s difficult to explain,” she hurriedly replied. “I don’t want to get recognized.”

“By who?”

“Everyone,” she blurted out. “They think I am some kind of celebrity.”

“Heiress?” I said in pure jest. “Sorry,” I quickly apologized. “They give you trouble?”

“I’m rich,” she said with some reluctance. “And people come to me for money, or for something along those lines.”

“I didn’t.”

“No, but you are different.” She reached forward to jack up the heat in the car, since the temperature was so frigid outside. “But we should go. It will get busier if we stay here any longer.”

“It’s Friday,” I reminded her. “It will be busy anyways.” I put the car into drive, and manoeuvred myself out of the gravel parking lot to hit the main road. The road outstretched itself before us, allowing me to see the swaying trees that bent itself against the onslaught of wind. The weather was fine early on this morning, but a sudden wind had made it almost unbearable just now. I turned my head to the right every so often, catching that worrisome expression over Marta’s face. “Hey!” I called out. “If you want, I can go shopping and you stay at your place.”

“No, it’s fine.”

“You don’t look fine,” I knowingly replied. “I thought it would be fun going into town, but if-”

“-Ben,” she cut in. “It’s fine.”

“Alright,” I drawled out slowly, before I tapped my fingers against the top of the steering wheel.

“But thank you,” she uttered out softly. “For caring.”

“I always care for you.”

“I know.”

A strange silence lapsed over us, an uncomfortable one too. I suppose laying the truth out there made the car drive suddenly awkward. I was tempted to look over in her direction, but I kept my gaze on the road, knowing we would soon pass the security point where Mr. Stevens was stationed.

“Normally,” Marta piped up. “My mother would go down for the groceries. She isn’t as easily recognizable as me.”

“What happens when you do go down there?”

“People approach me.”

“Like the Thrombey’s?”

“No, they don’t even live in the town,” she replied back with a sudden sharpness. “They are too good for that.”

“So, they leave you alone.”

“For the most part,” she admitted. “Though they don’t hesitate to make remarks about me on social media… or to the press.”

“Hatred,” I jeered. “Deep seeded hatred. They wanted you to bend- to twist to their will but you refrained. You went against their expectations.”

Her voice was low as she stated: “It wasn’t easy.”

“Oh, I know.”

“But I know you are happy with my decision.” I raised my hand upwards to salute Mr. Stevens in case he saw me on the security camera as we passed the small building that was situated at the end of Marta’s property. “Ben? How did you get passed my security guard?”

“It took an awful amount of persuasion,” I assured her. “But I am a detective, you know.”

Marta removed her hat and brushed back her wild hair. “You know I ruined the security tapes when you gave it to me that day.”

“I suspected as much.”

“Why did you keep me around then?”

My lips pursed together, and I found my fingers sliding over the steering wheel in deep mediation. “Well…” I found my throat becoming dry, feeling uncomfortable by her question. “You see, Marta. I like working with you.”

“Even though you didn’t need me.”

“I would disagree with that,” I offered out lightly. “But I can’t convince you.”

The road was beginning to curve to the left when I heard: “No, you can’t.” It was the nail in the coffin, for sure, but then I heard Marta voice grow stronger as she added: “But if things didn’t work out the way they did…” I turned my head to glare at her, seeing the confidence exuding from her entire face. “The case may have never been solved. I had to trust you in the end. To tell you everything.”

“And you did,” I pursued. “And our collaboration allowed us to get Ransom in the end. We are a pair, you see.”

“Yes,” she laughed happily to the right of me.

“I think we work well together,” I bravely added. “It’s too bad I can’t take you on my other cases.”

“You won’t have your Watson,” she hushed with some pleasure resounding in her voice.

“No,” I breathlessly answered her. “And I would have liked it too. When you have eliminated the impossible…”

“Yes?”

“You see, I can’t remember the rest.”

“It sounds familiar,” she noted while leaning forward in her seat. I watched her brush her hair away from her face in the corner of my eye. “Too familiar.”

“It’s a quote from one of Sherlock Holmes’ novels.”

“Ah, a _detective_ ,” she quipped with her accent a touch stronger than before. “And you are waiting for me to finish it for you?”

“You are my Watson,” I drawled out cunningly. The trees were swaying from side to side, a welcome distraction from our line of conversation. “If I forget things then I would like to entrust them onto you to recall these things for me.”

“Let’s see.” She brushed her hair behind her ear, letting the long black sleeve rub against the side of her cheek. “I can’t tell you it, but I could look it up online.”

“Now, that’s just cheating!” She pulled out her phone anyways and rested it over her lap. “You still have that cracked up phone?”

“It still works.”

“A multi-millionaire with a cracked cell-phone,” I chuckled out happily. “My, my,” I chanted under my breath. “You really don’t want the money, do ya?”

“I’ve learned to accept it,” she replied in a leveled tone of voice. “But I don’t believe anyone should have all of this money to themselves.”

“Harlan did,” I pointed out with a finger in her direction. “And he gave it over to you.”

“He worked for it,” she reminded me.

“You could always give it back, you know.”

She leaned back into her seat, and brought up her phone to turn it on. “I thought of it more than once,” she admitted. “Maybe one day I will.”

“I don’t think so. I think you like to _entertain_ the idea.”

“Am I selfish?”

“You?” I drawled out slowly. “No, darlin’. I think you are the most selfless person I’ve ever met. Yeah, I thought that from the start.” I turned my gaze off the road to look at her fully. “And I was right.”

“You…” Her voice failed her unexpectedly. “You have such a good opinion of me.”

“And it shocks you.” The road was beginning to dip downwards, a sure sign that we were getting closer to the highly populated town. “That I should have such a good opinion of you.”

“I don’t know why,” she admitted aloud. “But it does.”

I offered her a false smile before turning my head away from her. It seems that I was not the only one self-conscious today. “I have a very high opinion of you,” I reassured Marta. “And it goes more than you being my confidant.” A tiny smile appeared over my face. “And my Watson.” I let my fingers nervously tap over the steering wheel as I added, “And even my friend.”

“Well, I am grateful for even having a friend,” she nervously replied. “I swear half the people that talk to me only want information about Harlan’s books or money from me. They aren’t interested in the real me.”

“Everybody wants something,” I mused aloud.

“Yeah, but you don’t want that.”

“No,” I drawled out lowly. “I don’t.”

“And that is why I can trust you,” she stated at a rapid pace. “We are nearly there. I will be quiet once we get out the car. I’d like to stay invisible.”

“You can stay in the car, you know.”

“No, I will come,” she reassured me. “I’ll stay close to you.”

“Is there anywhere that you feel safe?”

“I mean, they won’t bother me too much,” she recollected, after we could see the tops of the buildings in the distance. “Lieutenant Elliot is really nice whenever I stop by to say hello.”

“That’s good to hear.”

“And so is Trooper Wagner.”

“Perhaps, we should pay them a visit for old time’s sake.”

“Alright.”

The buildings became more distinguishable in our line of vision; a grey overcast sky hovered over the small town that Marta secretly dreaded to step into. I would do everything possible to protect her, and make Marta feel more comfortable. I vocalized these thoughts aloud, just to give her every possible assurance that I was there for her. She took it well, I thought, but sometimes it is hard to tell what goes on in a woman’s mind.

By the time we pulled up the grocery store, Marta was deathly silent. I turned off the car’s engine, and pulled the key out of the ignition. “So…” I turned in my seat and rested my hands over my lap. “You still want to go through with this?”

“What’s the worst that can happen?” she nervously chuckled. “The media spots me, and starts to take pictures of me with their cameras.”

“Marta, it’s not even eleven o’clock in the mornin’ yet.”

“I don’t go out the house,” she said with something attune to anger. “They are naturally curious of me.”

“Who? The local media? Some nobody journalist? Here, here! Look at Marta Cabrera out grocery shopping for the day.”

“With an unknown man,” she pointed out.

I stuffed my key inside of my pocket. “Let’s just say I’m your father.” I winked at her in a teasing way before I pushed open my car door.

Marta’s voice echoed through the entire car as she exclaimed: “My father!”

I laughed into the palm of my hand while turning away from the car completely. My back leaned against the side of my rented car as I squinted my eyes with amusement. It was probably the silliest thing that came out of my mouth this morning, but Marta’s reaction was worth it all.

I heard her door slam shut and the sharp raise of her voice as she reasoned: “Is that the best that you could come up with?”

“I’m a detective, my dear, _not_ a journalist.”

“Anyone with eyes can see that we aren’t related.”

“Then what are we, Marta?”

“Why, we’re…”

I tilted my head with expectations, with something of a beguiling smile. “Come on, Watson,” I entreated, since she wouldn’t be able to relate the truth of our relationship even if she wanted too. “The game is afoot!”


	6. A Sudden Epiphany

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once they visit Lieutenant Elliot and Trooper Wagner's office, Benoit has a sudden epiphany of what he truly wants in life. The only question is, will Marta want the same exact thing?

Little ol’ Marta was close to my side as I pushed the heavy shopping cart. We were just approaching the store’s exit when a security guard raised up a hand to stop me. “Receipt,” he demanded, while keeping a careful eye on Marta. He suspected her to make a move, even to run by the hard stare that he barrelled down on her.

My shoulder’s rolled back instinctively and with a loud voice I questioned: “You want our receipt?”

The tall, lean looking man with short blonde hair cropped to the sides nodded his head sternly at me.

“Well, hell,” I muttered under my breath, before I dug my hand deep inside of my pocket to unearth the document. “I don’t see you asking anyone else.” The balled up piece up paper was pulled out of my pocket and I was half tempted to throw it in this man’s direction. “But here you are,” I related, just as I was unravelling the document.

The security guard was completely ignorant to my actions, more focused on Marta that was still trying to shield herself from his inquisitive gaze. I was keenly aware of her actions once she stepped behind me, using my large figure to cover herself from this man.

“If you don’t mind,” I grumbled, while waving the piece of crumpled paper in front of the guard. “We got places to go.”

The man glanced at the receipt for half a second, before averting his gaze to Marta. “Sure, you can go.” He took a few steps back to create some space, assuring us that we could leave the small grocery store unharmed. Marta pushed her body into me as we walked past this man, showcasing a nervousness I was unprepared for. The receipt was stuffed back into my coat pocket and then I turned my whole attention to the timid girl beside me. “You know this disguise isn’t helping anyone,” I reasoned. “The baseball cap and the heavy hood is a bit much.”

She stepped forward, enough for me to see her more clearly in the faint sunlight. “I just don’t want to be recognized,” she answered me back quickly.

“I would rather you recognized than end up in the back of a police car,” I muttered, but she heard it all the same. “Marta, what is the worst that can happen? Really.”

Marta stepped forward to help me bring the cart over a curb. She was small in stature, but she was strong enough to take the front end of the cart to heave it forward. “The car is just over there,” she said in a leveled tone of voice.

“You ain’t bothered about that man?”

“No,” she said over her shoulder.

“We were the only ones pulled aside,” I reminded her. “He didn’t even look at the receipt. You know he pulled us over for another reason.”

Marta chose not to answer me, electing to step ahead of the heavy shopping cart to get to my rental car first. This entire encounter with the security guard did not seem to faze her, as if she had experienced something like this before. By the time we got to the car she was standing in front of the trunk with her hands deep inside of her sweater pockets. Her hoodie was large and slouchy against her form; the coal black shade made her look suspicious especially with the low baseball cap that covered the top part of her face. She stood out like a sore-thumb in the streets, but Marta would not change her ways anytime soon, even for me.

“You have the keys?”

“Yeah, I have ‘em.” They were pulled out of the left pocket of my tweed jacket. “We did good, Watson.”

“The groceries should last my family at least two weeks.” She moved back once I began to lift up the trunk. “And we got food that you can cook as well.”

“Benoit the chef,” I chuckled. “Yeah, we got the right ingredients this time.”

She unexpectedly laid a hand over the top of my back, compelling me to look over my shoulder to have a good look at her. “Benoit, I am used to getting stopped by security guards or the police,” she hushed. Her hand pressed itself harder against my back once she dropped her gaze from mine. “Even without my disguise.” She used her right hand to pull down her hood, letting me see the dark grey baseball cap she was currently sporting. “But I am guessing you aren’t.”

“I…” My thoughts left me, and then I felt a sense of shame for her. “No, actually.”

“America,” was all that she could utter, before she turned away from me. She went over to her side of the car for some reason; I could only suppose she wanted some time alone so I decided to put the bags of groceries into the trunk.

She was right, of course, I hadn’t been stopped by a security guard before, and I knew I was not the reason that particular guard had stopped me. Yes, Marta did look suspicious in appearance but was there another motivation for her to be stopped as well?

It took me a while to put all of the groceries away, and once I was done I stepped around the car to bring myself to the passenger door. She left it wide open for me, enough for me to see her dabbing the back of her hand against her eyes. She had been crying, or something akin to that. “Marta?”

“Ben,” she said in a groggy voice. “Sorry.” The tips of her sleeves were pressed against her eyes for one last time. “Did you put it all away? I was going to help you.”

“I’m a strong man, Marta. I took care of it.” I rested my hand over the car and found myself leaning into her space. “You want me to go back there and give him a piece of my mind.”

She laughed softly, while pressing her sleeve into her eyes again. “No.”

“Ya sure?”

“Benoit, please don’t.”

“Alright.”

“You were right though.” She sniffled softly, while bringing her hands away from her face. “This disguise makes everything worse.” Her right hand quickly tore the cap off her head, revealing the messiness of her hair that was quick to tumble down her back. “I am only attracting the wrong kind of attention.”

“Look Marta,” I stated in a deep tone of voice. “I know what kind of America I’m living in.” Her gaze softened before me, almost open enough for me to read her thoughts. “Now, if that ever happens again, I swear I will give that person a piece of mind. Whether you like it or not. Ya understand?”

“Yeah.”

“How about you leave the hat in the car,” I suggested. “And the baggy hoody.”

She nodded her head softly with a twinge of a smile on her face.

“And let’s go visit some old friends, huh?”

“Give me a minute, Ben.”

“Sure thing, sweet thin’.” I winked at her playfully. “I’ll go put the shopping cart away.”

“Okay.”

My mouth crooked upwards, revealing the truth of my feelings in front of her. “Be back in a minute,” I promised Marta, and with that I left her.

As I was pushing the shopping cart away I could feel hot anger pumping through my veins. Marta had been crying, and I simply could not cope with that fact. It pained me to see her this way, all distressed over the things that the security guard had done. I had half a mind to go inside there and report the bastard. The cart was shoved harshly into the correct spot, and I found myself blindly storming back to the car in an overprotective manner. I cared for Marta more than words could say, a fact that left me feeling helpless in more ways than one. Once I got to the car I saw her waiting outside for me, wearing a plain white t-shirt with her shirt tucked into loose black track pants. Her hair was down, resting over the top of her shoulders with enough wind to lift it up on them rare occasions. She wore a smile only for me, something that made my heart hammer against my chest as I approached her. I had half a mind to wrap my arms around her and give her a sweet ol’ kiss. By the time I stopped in front of her, I found myself frozen, absolutely floored by the sheer beauty of her.

“Are you ready?” she asked of me, completely ignorant of the thoughts running through my brain.

“Uh huh.”

She batted her eyes at me, and then looked down at my chest for some unknown reason. “Thanks.”

“For what?”

She raised her chin, allowing eye contact with me as she added: “Caring for me.”

“Oh, sure thing.”

“I’m a bit nervous going out there,” she confessed. “But you will keep me safe.”

“Will do,” I easily quipped. Marta watched me take a step forward, and then swivel around to have myself directly beside her. “May I?” An arm was offered out for her, hoping she would accept it. “It would be easier this way.”

To my surprise, Marta placed her arm over mine. I could feel her arm rubbing against the side of my body, noticing the sudden closeness of our forms.

“I reckon the police station is this way.” She used her finger to point in the right direction, confirming my suspicions all along. “Then off we go.”

In no time at all, we were on the narrow sidewalk that would take us to the local police station. Marta had her arm in mine, and this brought a whole world of feeling to me. It was nice to have her this close, to know that she was right beside me. The few people lingering on the sidewalk hardly took notice of her, making me think that Marta was holding on to some irrational fear. She was unusually quiet though, something that made me slow down my steps to have a good look at her. “How you feeling, Marta?”

“Oh, a bit better.”

“Looks like you’ll be safe after all.”

She nodded her head quickly with a tiny smile. “I can’t remember the last time I’ve been down here.”

“That house sounds more like a prison, if that’s the case.”

“I just don’t like the attention,” Marta explained. “The looks… the questions.”

“Curiosity, that’s all.”

“And there is awful rumours about me too,” she continued. “People come up with their own reasons why I inherited Harlan’s money.”

I let out a low whistle into the air. “And none of them are nice, am I right?”

“No.”

“More fuel to the fire,” I quipped. “Oh, look at that!” I pointed at a store front that was clearly a small florist shop. “Good heavens.”

“What is it?”

“I realized I made a fatal error.”

“You did?”

“I came to your house yesterday empty handed!” I exclaimed. “Now, I was taught better than that.” My free hand clutched over the door knob to pull it open. “Go on inside,” I urged, without her ever having a choice in the manner. “And pick out something pretty.”

“Benoit,” she complained, but she stepped into the florist shop all the same.

“I should have brought you flowers,” I pondered aloud. “Or a bottle of wine. Hell, maybe even a pie.” I heard her laughter ring in the air as she walked away from me, probably amused by my train of thought.

Marta let her fingers feel the softness of the flower petals as I watched her, analysing each plant that came her way. Satisfied, I stood in front of the doorway simply taking in this entire sight. I wasn’t even aware of the smile playing upon my face until I heard a noise at the back of the shop. A sweet sounding voice rang out in a polite welcome, and being the gentleman that I am, well I was quick to offer it back to her. My feet moved on its own accord, and soon enough I was standing in front of the cash register, where a well-shaped lady was currently playing with the thin silver rings on her right hand.

“A nice day, ain’t it?” I leaned myself against the high counter that divided me from the shop worker. “As long as we don’t get any rain.”

“We shouldn’t,” she politely responded. I noticed her gaze was focused on Marta, but not in a rude sort of way. “Could I help the two of you?”

“Oh.” I leaned my whole arm against the empty counter space. “I wanted Marta to pick out some nice flowers for the house.”

The middle-aged lady beamed a large smile at me, absolutely thrilled by the prospects. “That’s lovely.”

“I thought so too.”

“Is there a special occasion?”

I leaned over the counter-top so I could talk to the shop worker in a lower level. “You know, I’m not sure yet.” The lady arched her eyebrow at me in surprise. “But I hope it’s a nice one.”

“I see.”

“I want something to cheer her up,” I drawled out nice and slow. “Brighten up the place.” I leaned forward even more as I whispered, “You know a nice restaurant to take the girl?”

“A restaurant.”

“Uh huh.” I glanced over my shoulder quickly, making sure Marta was not ease-dropping on our conversation. “A nice place in town where she can get all dressed up.”

“Date night?”

“Ummmm.” I glanced over my shoulder for the second time. Marta was too busy having her head buried in flowers to pay much attention to the shop keeper and I. “Yeah,” I sly fully answered her. “I guess you can say that.”

The lady brushed back her curly honey blonde hair to throw it over her shoulders. “There is Darrol’s,” she replied softly. “Or Beyond Sushi.”

“No, that won’t work.”

“There is a nice place at the edge of town.” She pursed her lips for a moment in deep contemplation. “It has those romantic candlelight dinners.”

“Oh, give me the name of that one,” I insisted, after leaning over her countertop even more. “That would suit us fine.”

“Audrey’s,” she murmured. “The owner’s a fan of Audrey Hepburn. I was taken there once on a blind date, and it was really nice.”

“The date worked out for you?”

“No, but I got a nice meal out of it.” The lady winked at me teasingly, before she leaned herself away from me. It was just then that I caught onto her body language, and looked over my shoulder. Marta had a tall white orchid in hand, but her face was most telling.

“Hello Marta,” I called out. “You got yourself a plant.”

“I wanted it to last a long time,” she quietly replied. “And for it to go with the rest of the house.” She placed it over the countertop, but her stiff movements told me that there was something wrong.

The shop keeper was quick to wrap up the orchids, leaving Marta and I alone for a moment. I rested a hand over her bare arm, wanting her to open up with me more. “What’s wrong, hun?”

“What were you talking about with her?”

“Oh, nothing,” I lied, while squinting my eyes at her softly. “Why?”

“You were leaning in,” Marta bluntly responded. “And so was she.”

“We were just talkin’.”

“About?”

“Places in the town,” I half lied. I leaned away from the counter once the plant was all wrapped and ready. It took me a while to find my wallet, but once it was procured, I handed the lady the necessary cash to purchase the orchid. “Thanks.” I winked at her in return before I turned away from the counter with the wrapped up orchid resting under my arm.

The air was cool once we stepped outside, a gentle reminder that the autumn season was slowly coming to a close. My arm was offered out to Marta, and she surprisingly accepted it. A prideful smirk struck across my face, and I tilted my head to the left in silent musing.

“Do you like her?” Marta asked with a sudden briskness to her voice.

“Who?”

“That lady back there.”

I looked down at her, catching that flash of anger betrayed in Marta’s expression. “No,” I assured her. “No, I have no interest in her.”

“You winked at her.”

“I wink at you too.”

Marta turned her head away from me, clearly contemplating my words. I let her be, somewhat puzzled by her behaviour. Could it be possible that Marta was jealous of that woman? If that was the case, then she would might feelings for me after all.

“Whenever you eliminate the impossible…” I muttered under my breath.

“You still trying to figure out that quote.”

“It’s like when you have a song in your head, but you can’t remember the lyrics.”

“Only the chorus,” she giggled, while leaning into my body more. “Yeah, I know the feeling.”

A large gasp sounded in front of us, forcing my gaze to dart forward to a young man in his early twenties with a phone in his hand. “Marta!” he yelled out. “Can I have your picture?”

A look of fear flashed across her face, horrified that she was recognized at last.

“I’m a big fan of Harlan’s work,” the young man with dark hair continued. “Could you tell me…” He stepped in closer, almost encroaching upon our space. “If he left any unfinished work. I heard online that there is at least four of them. Do you have them?”

“I- I have nothing,” Marta stammered out with pain.

“Sure you do,” the man said with utter defiance. “You are just holding it off.”

I pushed the wrapped up plant into my right hand, so I could use my left arm as a strong barrier between Marta and the young man. “Now, look here!” I charged out. “Me and the young lady would like to be off so-”

“-I want a picture first,” the man demanded, as if Marta never had an option. “There were fears that you flew out of America, but you’re still here. Can I take a pic?”

“You most certainly cannot,” I warned. “Now, we are heading down to the police station.” I took a step forward to be positioned in front of Marta and the young man. “Unless you want to be taken into custody I suggest you be leaving.”

“You her boyfriend?”

I tilted my head with a look of warning, and that was enough for the man to scamper off. I suppose my look was intimidating enough for him to get my meaning. A deep sigh escaped me once the moment passed, for I realized how strong my over-protective nature was towards Marta.

“Ben?”

“Yeah,” I said over my shoulder.

“Thanks.” I nodded my head in silence, for I was unable to speak my thoughts aloud. I felt Marta returning her arm into mine, tugging me backwards until I crashed into her frame. “Let’s keep going.”

“I say.” My head turned in her direction, catching the clearness to her hazel coloured eyes. “I never met anyone more self-entitled than that one.”

“Most of them are like that.”

“Why would you be hiding unfinished works?”

“Who knows?”

“Do you have any, Marta?” She arched an eyebrow at me, a sly answer if I ever there was one. “There is?”

She stepped forward, prompting me to follow her movements. “Like most writers he kept a notebook,” she confessed. “There were some plots, a few notes that could most certainly form a story. But no, Benoit, there are no secret drafts just lying around his place.”

“Unless he hid them.”

“Yes,” she admitted. “That is possible.” She pointed down the street to redirect my attention. “It’s only a few more blocks down.”

“I can see the reason you feel uncomfortable walking down the streets now,” I acknowledged aloud. “It would put you in a rather _awkward_ situation.”

Her voice was low, almost lifeless as she replied: “It doesn’t help that I don’t look as half as intimidating as you.”

“Me?”

“You are rather big, aren’t you?” She reverted her gaze in my direction, looking at me fully as she added: “I meant it in a good way, Benoit.”

“Oh, is that so?” She pursed her lips with all agreeableness. Her eyes betrayed her, for I could detect the happiness that shined within them. “And that makes you feel safe.”

“If I have to encounter another man like that.” She looked behind her in a cautious way. “I’d feel less scared if you’re with me.”

“Perhaps, you should hire a security guard when I’m gone.”

She laughed lightly while shaking her head. “Then I really would be a celebrity.” She unexpectedly reached for the clear white package that rested in my other arm. “Thank you for the orchids, Benoit.”

“I never expected you to purchase this one.”

“Hmmmm,” she murmured. “Neither did I.” She closed her eyes with pure bliss as we waited for the traffic light to change. “It seemed to call me over.”

“Felt right?”

“Yes.”

I made sure to look down at her as I uttered: “I know the feeling.” There was a certain look in my eyes, and I knew she would catch onto it right away. To my surprise she retained eye contact with me, but then her cheeks flushed a shade of red and she suddenly broke it without a moment’s notice.

“The light changed,” she pointed out nervously. “We can cross now.”

“We sure can,” I concurred with a raspy sound to my voice. “And won’t Lieutenant Elliot be in for a shocker.”

* * *

I swear the two of them looked like little school boys that were up to no good. Trooper Wagner was shielding his smile with a large white mug, but his partner was less willing to hold back his true feelings. They had been giving me a look the moment I walked in with Marta, and I was not liking it one bit.

Fortunately, Marta’s cellphone went off a minute after we entered their office, and with a quiet excuse she opened the door to step outside.

“Well,” Lieutenant Elliot rang out in a loud tone of voice. “I know I am a detective, but you are going to have to explain this one to me.” He pulled out his leather chair and plopped himself down on it, electing to close his laptop so he could see me more clearly. Trooper Wagner took a seat at the edge of the desk, letting his right leg swing forward and backwards amiably. There was a certain charm to his smile that he cast over me, a tiny sparkle of amusement the longer we retained eye contact.

“You got a case here?” Trooper questioned me.

“As a matter of fact,” I tiredly sighed out. “I don’t.”

“Out shopping?”

I looked at the package that rested under my right arm. “Flowers for Marta.”

“Her birthday?”

Lieutenant Elliot raised up his hand to stop his partner from going any further. “Marta would not come here for her birthday.”

“Why not?” Trooper responded. “She likes us.”

The lieutenant pointed his finger in my direction. “I think she likes him more.”

I stepped forward to rest the wrapped up plant down on their table, not caring if that bothered Lieutenant Elliot or not. Slowly I pulled off my coat, hoping there would be no sweat stains since I felt overheated by the warmer temperatures in their office.

“And I think,” Lieutenant Elliot continued. “My man, Blanc, can say the same.”

“The flowers are a house warming gift,” I lied, in a slow drawl from the corner of my mouth.

“A year too late for that, Blanc.” I nodded my head silently, for his words were painfully true. “I would say, the flowers are a sign of your affection for her.”

“Are you a counselor, lieutenant?”

“I’m a detective,” he corrected me. “But not as good as you. Nice seeing you again, Blanc.”

“I’d say the same to you.”

The door opened a crack, and Marta poked her head through the door. “Sorry!” she cried out. “Give me another few minutes. My mom is talkative today.” She waved a hand at her other two friends before she closed the door.

I stepped around their office to pull a chair over to their large grey desk, and decided to cross my legs once I took a seat. “Look at the two of you,” I observed. “All you need is a big ol’ box of popcorn.”

Trooper’s voice was clear and animated as he retorted: “It’s amusing.”

The lieutenant leaned forward in his chair, pushing his laptop aside before he addressed me. “So, the two of you are seeing each other now?”

“No.” I tapped the tips of my fingers together. “I wouldn’t say that.”

“But you are spending time with her.”

“As…” I looked over my shoulder, worried if Marta could overhear me. “We’re just friends.”

“Friends that buy flowers.”

“I am a nice… ummmm.”

“Friend,” he finished for me. “You ever heard of the term, ‘Friend zone.’” He let a smug smile shine in my direction. “If not, you are about to find out.”

“I am perfectly fine being her friend,” I lied. “After all, she’s been through a lot.”

“And you would love to help her through it.” Lieutenant Elliot looked to his left to see that his friend agreed with him. “Be the shoulder to cry on, and all that.”

“She wouldn’t cry on me.”

“She wouldn’t,” he confirmed. “So, why are you here?”

“I wanted to spend some time with her.” I let my gaze fall over the top of my knee. “I’ve been thinking about her lately, and I thought it would be nice to stop by and say hello.”

Trooper giggled softly under his breath, a nervous sound that made me feel uneasy.

“Blanc,” the lieutenant called out with all directedness. “Who do you think you are fooling here? We both know that-”

The door swished open and Marta stepped in quickly, unaware of our line of conversation. “Sorry,” she called out. “My mom.” She looked down at her phone with the cracked screen. “She wanted to make sure everything was okay.” Marta turned her gaze to me. “My mother said hello to you.”

I opened my mouth in surprise, but I found myself unable to answer her.

Lieutenant Elliot was quick to put in his two cents. “Isn’t that nice, Blanc? Her mother wanted to say hello to you.”

I shot him a glare to silence him, hoping he would not make the situation any worse.

Marta stepped into the room until she was at my side. “I never mentioned the two of you, otherwise she would have said the same thing. Oh, I see there is no other seat.”

I came out of my chair so quickly it must have blind-sided her. “Have mine,” I insisted. “A man should stand when a woman’s in a room.” I took a step backwards to reaffirm my words. “Go on, Marta.”

“Thanks,” she mumbled, before she self-consciously took a seat. She could feel the gaze of all three men in the room, and her cheeks were slowly turning a shade of red. “How is everyone?”

“Good,” resounded in the room from all three of us.

“What were you guys talking about?”

“Oh!” Lieutenant Elliot shouted out with a sinister gleam in his dark brown eyes. “Of how good of a friend Blanc is to you.” His smirk was unmistakeable. “Wouldn’t you agree, Marta?”

“Uhhhh.” She glanced upwards at me with a timid nature. “Yes, he is.”

“A good friend,” the lieutenant repeated, though I knew this sly little gibe was meant for me. “We are all proud of you, Blanc.”

I bit down on my tongue to hold back any unsavoury words. I knew he had a point, but I was not going to admit it aloud. I dug myself a nice little hole for myself, and now I had to figure out a way out of this mess. I was Marta’s friend, yes, a _true_ friend, but I wanted more than that. As I looked down at Marta, catching sight that she had been watching me all along, I realized then that I had to fight my way out of this the best way I could. I wanted to be someone should could depend upon, to trust, the shoulder to cry on, the man she wanted to hold and cherish forever. I wanted to love her, hell, and for her to love me too.

“Thank you, Lieutenant,” I replied after a lengthy delay. “I think it is rather hard to find a good friend, these days.” The man in front of me recoiled backwards until he fell into his comfy leather chair. “And if I can win Marta’s trust, I say that’s something.”

Trooper Wagner raised up his mug in open approval. The lieutenant wore a sneaky smile, as his own thoughts secretly consumed him.

“Perhaps, we all grab a bite to eat tomorrow evening. It would be good to catch up.”

“There is a bar down the street from here,” Trooper mentioned with a happy expression. “We can have a pint then.”

“As long as it acceptable for young ladies, like Marta.”

“Oh, sure!” Trooper laughed out. “Yeah, it is.”

Lieutenant Elliot raised himself out of his chair slowly. “How long you staying here, Blanc?”

“I haven’t figured that part out yet, I’m afraid.”

“What hotel are you staying at?”

“Well…” I looked down at Marta to seek out her approval. “I’m kind of staying at Marta’s place.”

The lieutenant opened up his mouth, but never made a sound. A startled expression was the best way to describe his appearance. Nervous laughter sounded from Trooper Wagner, for he found this part to be funny as well.

“You staying at Marta’s place?” questioned the lieutenant. “Alright.” He nodded his head while looking down at his closed laptop. “Good to hear, Blanc.” He pulled out his phone to check the time. “We have some work to do, so if you don’t mind.”

Marta finally voiced her thoughts aloud, for she exclaimed: “We’ll be going.”

“See you tomorrow. Blanc! I will text you.” He waited for Marta to turn her back to him before he raised up his fist in open approval. “Go on,” he mouthed out with encouragement, enough for me to slip on my coat and snatch the wrapped orchid so I could follow after Marta. “Tomorrow!” rang out in the air, echoing off the four walls of the lieutenant’s office just before the door closed behind me.

Marta stood in front of me with her arms crossed tightly. “What was that about?”

“What?”

She tapped her right foot rather impatiently against the carpeted floor. “Why were they looking at you like that?”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know,” she nearly hissed.

“They were just teasing me.”

“They never tease you.”

“Yeah, I know that.” I walked past her, hoping to avoid this conversation before she found out the truth of the matter. “We should go grab a coffee or something.”

“Benoit!” she called after me, since I was moving too fast for her. “Why would they tease you?”

“Oh, they find some entertainment in the fact that I am staying at your place.”

“Why?”

“They just do.”

“There is nothing wrong with it.”

“Yes, I agree.”

Her voice was lower as we walked across the police station, since the ambiance demanded it. “I can have a friend over, if I want too.”

“Yeah, I know that.”

“And there is nothing going on between us.”

“Uh huh,” I answered her back in a lower tone of voice.

“Is there?”

“Oh? Ummm.” She turned her gaze to me with sudden swiftness. “No, Marta.”

“Okay?” she wheezed out with a sound of disbelief. “I’d like to go back home, if you don’t mind. We can have coffee there. We have the groceries in the trunk and-”

“-I forgot about that.”

“You don’t mind?”

“No, I will do everything you say,” I assured her in a smooth tone of voice. My hand held out the front doors to the police station. “Ladies first.”

“Ben?”

“Yeah?”

She stood in front of the open doorway, clearly conflicted with some inward feeling. “Why are you so kind to me?”

I brought myself a little closer to her, not minding that I was suddenly towering over Marta. “Because I like you,” I told her plainly. “And I am a gentleman.”

“You are.”

“So, ladies first.”

Her gaze lingered long on my visage, trying to find something that satisfied her curiosity. “Alright,” she eventually submitted, and with that she stepped forward to enter the main street once again.


	7. The Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Benoit Blanc's hopes of winning Marta over are incredibly low, but when sparks begin to fly he suddenly realizes that his situation could change for the better.

The brisk autumn wind blew upon my form, flapping up my jacket at the sides until they flung far behind me. I was stepping down a relatively steep hill, letting my hands hang outwards in case I lost my footing. Marta’s property was undoubtedly extensive, it felt like her forests were never-ending sometimes.

Suffering from a hazy mind I thought it best to take a nice long walk in the woods, hoping the fresh air would clear my head. I felt like an outright fool, a tortured soul. The feelings I harboured against this young girl had only become stronger, and now I felt twisted inside with guilt for wanting something more than what we already had. I reached the hollowed bottom of the hill, inhaling the scent of the air that filled the air after a hard night’s rain. The clouds were a murky grey overhead, threatening to rain if it had its own way. I let my hands slip deep into my coat pockets, looking down mournfully at the dewy grass that speckled over with the recently upturned earth. There was a large pool at the very bottom, probably a meeting place for mosquitoes once the sun sets at the end of the day. I looked down mournfully at the ground, wondering if there was any chance of me getting my way. Could I in fact win Marta Cabrera heart? Was it possible for her to have feelings for me too?

I lifted my head to look at the very tops of the trees, watching the fading leaves of red and gold flutter in the cool autumn gale. It was high time I turned in, a shame really, because I enjoyed my time spent out here. I looked over my shoulder, seeing the high hill that I would have to climb over. It felt like a strange analogy to my life, so with a heavy sigh escaping my lips I reached into my coat pocket to retrieve a most treasured thing. “This will do the trick,” I muttered to myself, before I pulled out a cigar to place it in between my lips. I fished for my lighter and brought it upwards, watching a spark of fire ignite before me before it grazed the tip of my cigar. “This is just what I need with her,” I mused aloud. “A spark of fire.”

I brought the lighter downwards and placed back in my small pocket in the inside of my coat. I pulled the cigar out of my mouth fully as I tiredly trekked up the hill. The wind was at my back for once, so it was helping me along finely.

“But we do have a spark,” I reflected aloud. “It’s not me holding it back… it’s _her_.” My eyebrows lowered severely over the hoods of my eyes. The tip of my toes gripped into the soft earth as I mounted the hill, taking charge of my life with every step. “So, what is holding her back?” The cigar was placed back into my mouth as I took the last few steps up the hill. Once I reached the levelled ground I peered into the dense forest, knowing the trees were too thick here for me to make out the burgundy red bricks of her house. The distant barks of Harlan’s dogs were a welcome sign, enough for me to keep on moving. “Is it my age?” I wondered under my breath. “Am I too old for her?”

Puffs of grey smoke escaped my lips after I took a good inhale of my cigar. My mind puzzled over this issue, almost as if I was on a case. I was a good fifteen years old than her, just judging on our appearances alone. I never did ask Marta about her age, or anything too private to her. She struck me as a reserved person to a certain degree, only sharing antidotes about her life when she was ready. Still, she appeared to not have a problem with my age. Hell, Harlan’s was a good twenty years older than myself, maybe even more than that. The cigar was thrust into my mouth as I fell into this pensive state, my eyes growing darker with worry. The wind swished around me, fluttering the leaves upon the nearly bare branches of the towering trees. I could hear the faint crushing of leaves at the bottom of my feet, as well as the tiny squishing sound when you step upon the soft earth after a heavy rainfall. It was peculiar, the amount of times my thoughts gravitated to Marta, even before I set foot into her house yesterday. Yes, Marta Cabrera was always on my mind. A twinge of a smile managed to procure itself over my mouth, forcing it upwards at the remembrance of her own smile and the manner in which she often looked at me when we were alone. I detected a hint of affection from her, but was there anything more than that? I could grow sick with these thoughts if I let it go on any further, so I tried to think of something else. “I wonder what she made for lunch,” I mused aloud, a train of thought that naturally propelled my feet forward to get to her house faster.

Another ten minutes passed before I reached the outskirts of the forest. Her dogs must have noticed me, for they sprinted their way over, each trying to outrun the other until they reached the spot where I currently stood. I bent forward to pet each one, appreciating their show of affectionate before me as they rubbed their bodies against the front of my legs. “Time to go inside,” I instructed, with my cigar still resting in between my lips. The dogs must have sensed something of that nature, for they sprinted forward to head towards the front of the house. I pulled out my cigar and let out a deep exhale with the grey smoke floating upwards. It was time to face my demons, whether I desired it or not. I trudged forward slowly with weary steps, trying to convince myself that I should even be grateful that she allowed me to stay inside of her house. Perhaps, I was asking too much of her- desiring her affection and all. Was it too much for me wanting Marta to fall in love with me? Was it something that was far beyond my grasp? Untouchable for a low mortal like me.

Dreary thoughts forced me to snuff out the last of my cigar, and then I took the last few steps over her front lawn to reach her short staircase. The dogs were settled in front of the door, snug and warm after a lot of running across the front yard. I patted one on the top of his head, and then slowly twisted the doorknob to let the dogs inside. They tumbled through the small opening faster than I ever expected, scampering down the hall until they were lost from my vision.

“Benoit?” echoed from somewhere in the house.

“Hello, Marta!” I yelled out, the second I stepped through the open doorway. The hallway was completely black, but it was not unwelcoming to me as I strode forward. I removed my coat and took off my dress shoes with extra care. I heard the soft pattering of feet coming from the kitchen and soon enough I saw her small figure leaning against the door-frame to have a good look at me. A dish towel hung loosely in her hand as she dried her hands off.

“Lunch is ready.”

“Oh?”

“Had a nice walk?”

“Yeah, I kind of walked far.” My thin black socks were silent against her hardwood floor as I made my way towards her. “I enjoyed the fresh air though.”

“I couldn’t see you from my window,” she informed me with a telling look. “If you were gone any longer I would have called.”

“You thought I got lost?”

“I don’t even go that far into the forest,” she informed me. “You never know what wildlife lives there.” She flipped the towel upwards to rest over her small shoulder. “Come inside. I might have something hot for you to drink.”

I followed her lead, grateful that she was taking care of me. Marta retrieved the mug that she usually picked out for me and set it next to the coffee machine. I watched her inspect it for a moment, and once she appeared satisfied that it was hot enough to serve she poured the black coffee into my cup.

“Did you see anything interesting out there?” she asked with her back to me.

“No, there were no clues to search for.”

“You must miss going into work,” she recollected aloud.

“I haven’t got a call yet,” I answered her without thinking. “But I do miss it.”

She came over to me, careful enough to slide the mug gently over the counter to have it placed before me.

“Might have to take up Harlan’s book to occupy my time this evening.”

“Choose anyone you like.”

“Thanks, Marta,” I hushed with downcast eyes. Her hand unexpectedly fell over the top of mine, stroking it softly for me to feel a heat rise to sides of my cheeks. I darted my eyes up quickly, startled to see such a clearness in her hazel brown eyes. We retained eye contact for a moment, and the whole time I swore I held my breath.

“You looked so sad just there,” she piped up. Her hand fell off mine, and crashed onto the counter. “It’s unlike you.”

“Must be the weather,” I lied right to her face.

“The grey clouds are tough to handle some time,” she admitted. “But it’s not that.”

Marta turned around before I ever had a chance to answer her, deciding it was best to inspect the food she left in the oven.

I took some slow, casual sips of my coffee. My eyes inspected the kitchen to see how greatly it had changed since I last went out. There were used frying pans and bowls scattered over the other counter next to the kitchen sink. The drapes were fully closed, blocking out the dreary skyline that suited my feelings. Marta scooped t-shirt of a sunny yellow counter-acted the gloomy weather outside. She was wearing skinny jeans of a faded blue that reminded me of warmer days. I could hear a faint humming from her as she unraveled the tin foil, apparently in a good mood as she inspected the meat.

“Benny?” she unexpectedly called out. “Can you have your coffee with salad?”

“It is not exactly a good combo.”

“Should I put the meat back in the oven?”

“No, dear girl!” I yelled out. “No, I will have them both.”

“Are you sure?”

I slid off the high bar-stool and strode over to her with a comfortable gait. “I will not allow myself to be an inconvenience to you.” My hands rested over the tops of her shoulders, steading her moving form for a moment. “I will have whatever you prepared for me.”

She looked at me, retaining eye contact with a sudden boldness to her. “Okay,” she mouthed out cautiously.

I looked down at her lips, letting my gaze focus there for a moment. Common sense quickly got a hold of me, and I found my hands falling off her perfect form to return to my side. “So… ummm.”

She remained in the same spot, not wanting to step away from me just yet.

“What did you prepare for us anyways?”

“Steak salad.”

“Ah, you got some meat in it.”

“Just a little.”

“That suits me fine.”

Another silence followed suit, probably because of how close we were standing in front of each other. I was tempted to go, but I felt that she did not want me to move away just yet.

Marta reached up her right hand to finger the side of my cashmere sweater, pressing the tips of her fingers into the tan coloured sweater-vest I put on this afternoon. Her fingers continued to feel the fabric, while her gaze fixated on the spot where her hand was touching me. “It’s so soft,” she hushed.

“Cashmere, dear girl.” I heard a soft chuckle from her, probably amused by my statement. “You have a lot of money. You can buy ten times as much cashmere sweaters if you wanted too.”

“I could,” she quietly submitted.

“But knowing you, Marta, you would wear the same old thing that you bought before Harlan ever died.”

Her hand pressed into the side of my arm now, stroking the fabric with renewed energy. I could feel my breath hitch in my throat, trying to fight back the desire of me coming down on her and kissing those tempting lips.

Her hand suddenly become motionless, as if some unknown thought had seized her mind. I could feel the weight of her hand against my arm all the same, pressed firmly into my skin. Marta was unwilling to look into my eyes, and let it fixate to the spot directly in front of her, which was the top part of my chest. I turned my head to look at her small hands, seeing the way her fingertips still dug into the fabric. A hand reached outwards to lay it over her own, pressing it firmly into my arm. A small gasp escaped her lips upon contact, and then suddenly she backed away taking her hand with her. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled, before she turned her back to me and left the room entirely.

* * *

Marta was gone for a long while, enough for me to pace back and forth in the kitchen with worry. I knew she went somewhere down the hall, probably a few doors down from me. Perhaps, she needed some time to cool off. Things did get a little heated, almost intimate for a lack of a better word. My touch had scared her off, but that was the exact opposite of what I wanted to do. Maybe Marta needed more time to work out her feelings for me, or perhaps I am too quick to rush things for her.

I went ahead to turn off the oven, aware that Marta would not return to the kitchen any time soon. Frustrated and overwhelmed with feelings I strode out of the kitchen and decided to find Marta myself. Most of the rooms were empty, but I eventually found Marta in the study room where Harlan had that infamous argument with Ransom the night before he died. Marta had her fingers pressed against the clean white flower pot she had just procured this morning, letting her eyes dimly take in the orchids before they steered in my direction. I was half tempted to knock on the door, but I had already entered the study room, so there was no point in false pretentions. My back became rigid and straight, although the lids of my eyes drooped downwards in sadness. “It has come to my attention,” I exclaimed. “That my presence here makes you uncomfortable. I thought it best for us to say our goodbyes.” I paused once she rose out of her seat. “And leave things as they are.” Marta was motionless on the other side of the table, and yet, the dewiness to her eyes betrayed her true feelings for me. “If you are hiding here from me, I thought it best to just go from now.”

“I’m…” She brought her hand to her chest. “I’m not hiding.” Her breathing became somewhat erratic, and suddenly she was hunched over the table with her hand pressed harder against her chest.

“Hey, wooooh now!” I shouted out, before I instantly ran towards her. My arms wrapped around her from behind, trying to steady Marta as she gave out sharp, unpredictable breaths. I was not sure if it was a panic attack or asthma, but whatever it was I would make sure she would turn out alright in the end. I motioned her to take a seat, while continuing to lay a hand over the back of her shoulder in a comforting way. “Just breathe, Marta.” I bent down on one knee to be eye level with her. “Inhale and exhale. Do whatever you need to do, just don’t die on me now.”

Her breathing sounded off once she began to laugh, and instantly she brought her hands upwards to dab at her eyes.

“Oh, I am making you laugh. Good to see.”

A laugh finally did escape her, though I could tell it hurt. Marta leaned more to the left, brushing the top of her head into the side of my neck. Her laugh rang in the air all around me, bringing a lightness to the room that we desperately needed. I took the liberty of wrapping my arm around her, tugging her forward until she rested her head fully against the side of my neck and shoulder.

“There now,” I breathed out nice and slow. “Nothin’ sweeter than your laughter.”

Her laughter did eventually subside, but she stayed locked in that position. A long sigh escaped Marta, and then I felt her right hand tap against the top of my chest with some deliberation. “You don’t need to go, Benoit,” she whispered close to my ear.

“You sure about that one?” I questioned her with some distrust.

“Yes.”

“I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.”

“No, you- you didn’t,” she stammered out nervously.

“When a woman goes running away like that, it sure is a bad sign.” Her laughter sounded throughout the room again, growing louder the more she thought about that statement.

“I was nervous.”

“Nervous?” I echoed. “Nervous about what?”

“You made me feel nervous.”

“And that made you run?”

She leaned back onto her seat, creating some much needed space. “Uh huh,” listlessly escaped her lips, so soft I could barely hear it.

“So, when you get nervous your natural instinct is to run?” I questioned her.

“No, that is not it at all.” She used her fingers to brush back her dark brown hair, letting the light bounce off her brunette curls to my amazement. “When you touched me…” She leaned forward in her chair to the left and stretched out a hand to place it over the top of my shoulder. “When you touched me,” she continued, while rubbing it along my shoulder blade until it rested over my stiff white collar that was snug against my neck. “It did something to me.”

“Like what?” I challenged her, in a voice that was almost too encouraging for my own good.

Marta was inexplicably silent, something that made me turn my head in her direction. Her eyes sought me out most willingly, taking in the clearness of my aqua blue eyes for a moment or two. I felt a stray finger caress the side of my neck, making me involuntary shudder from her touch. “That,” she whispered through barely parted lips.

“My, my,” I chanted softly. “It seems we reacted the same way.”

She nodded her head soberly before retracting her hand from my neck.

I leaned most of my weight over the table to bring myself upwards, noticing that the room was kept in the same condition from over a year ago. Not one item or decoration had been changed since Harlan’s death. I almost expected the old man to walk in here right now, and demanded what wicked form of seduction I was using against his nurse. A smirk escaped me without realizing it, something that Marta caught all too quickly. “What is that smile about?” she asked in an accusatory voice.

“Oh, what smile?”

“You know what I am talking about.”

I pushed some of his items back to take a seat on the corner of the desk, making sure my knees were directed in Marta’s direction before I looked down on her. “I don’t know what you are talking about, darlin’.” She shook her head at me in annoyance, clearly wanting to know where my thoughts had turned too in that brief moment of silence. “You think Harlan would be jealous of me?”

“Of you?”

“Considering the connection we now have,” I pointed out with tightly crossed arms against my chest. “I don’t think he would like it.”

“Harlan and I are just friends,” she sheepishly replied, after she leaned back in her seat.

“Aren’t we?”

“Well, sure we are,” she said in a wavering tone of voice. “Good friends.”

“Best of friends,” I added with narrowed eyelids. “Aren’t I right?”

She nodded her head with a rather guilty looking smile creasing her face. I knew that look in her eyes all too well, and when she brought her hand up to her mouth I started to wonder if she would throw up her breakfast.

“Hey, steady now!” I charged out. “Don’t do it.” She pressed her hand tighter against her mouth. “We are friends, Marta. Aren’t we?” She nodded her head feebly, but the look in her eyes betrayed her once again. “Don’t go throwing up your breakfast on this table,” I warned. “There is nothing to lie about.”

She cleared her throat and then nodded her head more convincingly this time. Her voice was groggy when she responded: “Yes.”

I took a hold of her hand that once covered her mouth and cupped it firmly in mine. My left hand instinctively covered that one as well, until I could feel her warm hand fully in my own. My voice was soft, almost gentle-like as I stated: “I think it is _very_ important for us to be friends. I know you are just like me. We don’t mind being alone, but there is that small part of us that yearns for something more. Am I right?”

“Yes, you are,” she responded with a wavering sound to her voice.

“I like you, Marta,” I told her with utter confidence. “A lot.”

She swallowed hard in front of me, and then lowered her gaze. I was about to lose hope when she finally lifted those marvellous hazel coloured eyes and let it sparkle before me.

“Look, I didn’t come here to start something,” I revealed to her with an honest look about me. “You’ve been on my mind a lot. No- you’ve been on my mind since the very beginning. I thought the age would come in the way, so I didn’t do anything.” I stopped myself short, realizing I had revealed too much already. “But I didn’t come here to start something romantically,” I assured her. “I’m fine with us just being friends. And that is because I care about you, Marta.”

“Can- can I say something?”

I nodded my head for half a margin. “Sure.”

I noticed the way her right leg was bobbing up and down with nervousness, the way she leaned forward in her seat with obvious distress. I decided to let go of her hands and create some distance from her. She watched me settle my own hands into my lap, and then partially opened up her mouth.

Marta stretched out her left hand to grab a hold of mine, cupping it tightly like I was a life-line. Her knee stopped bouncing and to my surprise she was daringly looking at me straight in my eyes. “I like you too.”

My eyebrows lifted up higher than I expected, and I felt like the wind was knocked out of me. After a moment of recollection I took off my glasses and placed it down on the table behind me. “Say that again?”

Marta laughed so hard I knew she never expected that answer, especially when my accent became so much stronger.

“No, really.”

She brought a hand upwards to place it over her eyes. “Oh my God,” she laughed. “You don’t believe me.”

“Now, I am a clever man, but you are going have to explain some things to me. Every indication- everything you have ever said would counteract that.”

“Maybe, because I…” She dropped her hand from her forehead and then rubbed it profusely over her lap. “I feared how you would react to it.”

“But that was how I felt about it,” I said with some distress after I scratched the back of my head with anxiety. “I thought the age factor would be a problem.”

“See, that is what I thought too!”

“You mean to tell me,” I drawled out loudly. “That we felt the exact same way all this time, and did nothing about it.” I leaned back against the desk and let out a howl of a laugh. “This is too funny!”

“I am glad you find it amusing.”

“Imagine that! A private investigator with such a brilliant mind, and yet, I can’t see what is right in front of me. My dear Marta, I can’t believe any of this is true.” I clapped my hands together with energy once a sudden thought came over me. “When you eliminate the impossible…” I raised up a hand to point my finger at her. “No, don’t go covering your eyes now. I remember it.” I placed my hands upon my lap and bellowed out: “As Sherlock Holmes once said, when you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth.” I lifted up my hand with energy to point it in her direction. “Why did I have that in my head? Because the truth was in front of me all along.”

“What truth?”

“This one.” I yanked at her arm to get her off the chair and fall straight into my chest. My lips crushed against Marta’s immediately, kissing her with all delight with the added virtue that I was proving a very important point, which is the immovable fact that there was something brewing between Marta and myself all along. I lost my head for a moment, kissing her harder with an inexplicable passion that I was holding off for far too long. I paused to take a breath, letting my brow rest against hers in quiet satisfaction.

I felt delicate hands slide along the side of my neck, massaging it gently until a tiny hum escaped my closed lips. Marta tilted my chin upwards to connect my lips with hers, kissing me slowly until I felt like I was losing it entirely. Heaven help me, I kissed her back, taking my time with her so that I could enjoy each kiss. Her fingers pressed themselves harder against my neck, carving it around until she settled it at the back of my nape. I felt her rubbing her fingers along my hairline, and her thumb straying downwards to feel my skin underneath my tight fitted dress shirt. I pressed my lips harder against hers, nearly trembling by the strong sensation that only her lips could bring. “Marta,” escaped my mouth without realizing it, before I dug in for more. I had a sudden epiphany that I wanted to kiss her this way always. Her other hand suddenly laid over the curve of my hip, digging itself deeply into the smooth fabric of my trousers as I sat upon the wooden desk. I thought Harlan would disapprove of his nurse acting this way, another spur for me to continue to kiss her.

Marta tilted her head downwards and moved her head a way a fraction. “Catch my breath,” she whispered while avoiding eye contact with me.

“Is it too much?”

“No,” she answered me back quickly. “No, Benny.”

“So, you like that name now?”

She nodded her head eagerly while licking the bottom of her lip. “Yes, I do.”

“So, ummmm.” I leaned backwards to create an even larger distance. “Are we still friends?”

She laughed right in front of my face before pushing a hand into the center of my chest. My body barely moved an inch, but it was something she had gotten used to by now. “You want to be friends, Benny?”

“I like you as a friend.”

“Oh, but I don’t kiss my friends,” she teased with her accent growing stronger with every word. “I’m not that kind of girl.” She patted me on the front of my chest in a teasing way, and with that she left to walk right out of the room.


	8. A Goodnight Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a declaration of love things become a little ambiguous for Benoit. No longer friends, it makes him wonder about the status of his relationship with Marta, and what that could mean for him.

Unfortunately for me there is no manual on how I should behave around Marta. You see, this whole time that I knew her we were just friends, but now our situation is entirely different. The truth was out there, exposed for all the world to see. So, where do we go from here? How far is the line drawn between a friend and a lover? And what are the appropriate boundaries between her and myself?

In hindsight, the rest of my time spent in Marta’s household could make or break our relationship. I had to be careful around her, not push things too far for her to back-track and hide her true feelings fro me. I knew very little about Marta’s past lovers, or if she had any at all. Would I be her first? Was she the type of girl to date, to sleep around with other men? As far as I knew she spent most of her time with Harlan, and he was in no ways a romantic interest to her.

The problem when you overthink things is that it can quickly blow out of proportion. I imagined a tiny rat in a science lab spinning around a wheel, going over the same things over and over again until it became exhausted. When I fell out of this deep pondering state, I observed Marta preparing the last of our lunch with her back to me. I remained in front of the open doorway of the kitchen, examining the situation like the trained detective that I am. Her body language was enough for me to read that she wanted some time alone, probably to think over the whole situation that occurred in the study room as well. We kissed each other, so it is clear now more than ever that we were more than just friends.

She finally turned around with two plates resting in the palm of her hands. Marta effortlessly glided forward, settling our plates down upon the table where we would usually took our meals. Her eyes flickered in my direction, a telling look travelled across her visage in a matter of seconds; lust and shyness were emitted there for only a moment until she was able to compose herself once more. Marta’s tongue slid upwards, prodding her top lip. Her gaze fell downwards onto the floor, taking in the empty space that stood between us. “Lunch is ready,” she stated in a soft murmur, light enough for me to know that her shyness had returned to her again. A part of me wondered if I made her nervous, or was there something else that was playing in the back of her mind.

I stepped forward in a confident way, never stopping until I was at her side. A gentle hand was placed at the bottom of her spine, and then I leaned forward to peck a light kiss on the side of her cheek. My head inched backwards, taking in the small smile that suddenly appeared over her face to brighten up her eyes when she finally turned to me. Madness came over me, I swooped downwards to caress those lips, pressing my mouth harder against her own. It felt right to kiss her, easy enough for me to relax to her touch once she rubbed a hand up the length of my spine. I tilted my head to the left, shielding my face from her as I buried it into the side of her wavy brown hair. The faintest scent of zucchini flooded my senses, probably a lingering odour from her shampoo and conditioner Marta must use for her hair. I could feel her hand continuing to stroke the length of my back, feeling the softness of my cashmere sweater that captivated Marta from the start. We stayed perfectly still for a few more seconds; I detected the shallow breathing coming from Marta, a sound that was most telling to my ears. Her fingers prodded the center of my back, nails pressed harshly into my upper spine in a slightly aggressive way. I brushed the tip of my nose against her ear, feeling the softness of her skin before I buried my face into her tousled hair. “No one would believe us,” Marta softly chuckled.

“About what?” I hushed into her eardrum, with my voice almost grizzly in a way.

“That…” Marta stopped herself short, a thing that instantly made me worried. “That we like each other,” she finally revealed.

I merely hummed into the side of her ear. My arm wrapped around her slender form more, pulling her forward until I could feel her shoulder barrelling itself straight into my upper chest.

“I can’t believe any of this is happening.”

I kissed the side of her head happily, enjoying this show of affection that I could finally pour onto my dear Marta.

“Can you?”

“Huh?”

“Can you believe it?” Marta rephrased with a calm demeanour about her.

My voice was deep when I said, “Let me look at you.” I leaned back enough for me to use my right hand to tilt her chin in my direction. My gaze settled over her clear hazel brown eyes, taking it in with a heaving chest. “My, you are beautiful,” I relayed in my slow Southern drawl. “And yes, I can.” I found myself looking down at her lips, tempted to kiss it one more time. I could feel a fire blazing inside of me, raw emotion and unquenchable desire for _my_ Marta was growing stronger by the second. She satisfied me when she turned her entire body in my direction. I watched her to take a step forward, and observe the way her arms stretched themselves upwards to rest over the back of my shoulders and neck. I was pulled in swiftly, and then felt that small gap between our lips steadily drive me mad. Marta left the gap there for a reason, but she was unwilling to voice her suspicious motives aloud.

“You said I am a good person.”

I nodded my head weakly at her. “You are, Marta.”

“You are too,” she countered after a momentary pause. “But I can tell you are holding something back.”

“Like what?” I hushed with all interest.

“When you kiss me,” she continued. “Touch me.”

“Yes?”

“You are holding something back,” she knowingly replied.

“Well, I have to take things _slow_ with you,” I reminded her, while dragging a few stray fingers up and down the side of her waist. “It’s like stew, remember? We have to take things nice and easy.”

“Nice and easy,” she repeated, as if she was contemplating those words aloud. “Yes, I agree.”

“And we are new to this,” I strategically pointed out. “Since we were friends first.” I brushed my fingers upwards to settle it just inches over her bra-line at the side of Marta’s rib-cage. “We both imagined each other in a romantic light, but we never acted on it. That is, until now.”

Marta smoothed her fingers through the back of my hair. I stood perfectly still to enjoy this sensation, liking the way she was looking at me just now. My eyes gravitated towards her lips, and before I knew it I was leaning forward to kiss her perfect lips again. She crushed her mouth against mine, increasing the pace until my mind fell into a haze. Her back was arched as I leaned my weight against her; arms clasped tightly around her waist and lower spine for added support. Our feet moved across the floor until she crashed against the kitchen counter-top, and without thinking anything through I hiked her up and placed her down onto the counter. Marta separated her legs for me, enough for me to squeeze myself into the middle and continue kissing her. I must have lost my mind then, losing the last of my sanity when my lips were connected to Marta’s. Her hands friskily moved across the back of my head and neck, occasionally rubbing the side of my face and jawline where the light blonde scruff of hair was as a pleasant reminder that I needed to shave. Marta leaned herself forward since she had a height advantage, forcing me to crank up my neck to have my mouth pressed to hers. Things were quickly getting out of control, but I was powerless to stop it. Marta used her hands to settle themselves over my shoulders, and to my surprise she lightly pushed me back. We stood still, retaining eye contact as our chests heaved heavily over the other. Her eyes betrayed her feelings, and I knew that she wanted more from me. Her hands were hard and solid over my shoulders, however, creating a barrier so I could not move forward to kiss her once more.

“Do you want me to hold back?” I found myself asking her.

“I thought you were.”

I nodded my head feebly. “I am.”

She let out a sharp exhale before she turned her head away. Marta needed some time to think, so I lowered my gaze to the top part of her chest. “I haven’t been with anyone before,” she revealed to me. I nodded my head in understanding as I took in the news. “I thought you should know that.”

“Uh huh.”

“Does that bother you?” Marta inquired, after she turned her head forward.

“No, Marta. Not in the least. My dear girl, I appreciate you telling me that.” I moved my right hand upwards to cup the side of her cheek. “And we can take things slow, darlin’.”

“Okay,” she mouthed out quietly. Marta leaned into my hand while squinting her eyes in silent relief. She looked at ease suddenly, less self-conscious now that she had revealed the truth to me. “Thank you.”

“Anytime, dear girl.” Her mouth quirked upwards, and soon her beautiful smile was shining down on me. “We should have something to eat.”

“Will you help me down?” she shyly asked, since the drop was too much for her. I wrapped my arms around her frame and heaved her high into the air before I settled her back onto the kitchen floor. She let out a light laugh, probably over the entire situation. “How did I even get up there?” she giggled with her hand over her mouth. I watched her walk around the counter, while her laughter continued to fill the air. “I don’t remember you even putting me up there.” Marta pulled out her bar-stool and happily took a seat. “Come.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She watched me walk around the counter as well, and then drag our plates forward so we could finally enjoy our meal. I took a seat beside Marta, bumping shoulders with her playfully. She was my darlin’ girl, and every moment with her filled me with profound pleasure.

We took a few bites out of our steak salad, electing to enjoy our food in companionable silence. Things felt a little off, but that was probably because of the heated make-out session we had a few minutes ago. My mind was still spinning from it, so it was hard to calm down and just focus on the food in front of me.

“Ben?”

“Hmmm,” I answered her with a stuffed mouth.

“How long are you planning on staying here?”

I decided to answer Marta once I swallowed down the last of my food. My fork and knife were settled on the side of my plate before I turned my gaze to the right. “Well, that all depends…” I settled my elbow at the side of the table to get into a more comfortable position. “If I am called into work then I will have to leave without a moment’s notice. That means my time here is very precious.” I lifted a finger to prod it into the side of Marta’s shoulder that was closest to me. “If you didn’t know that already.”

“What if you are not called in?”

“I can stay here for as long as I want,” I informed her. “But your mom will be coming home soon.”

“Not for a couple of days.”

“Then I can stay here, if you’d like.”

“Yes,” she said with utter confidence. “I would like that.”

“Then I will,” I assured her, before I reached downwards for my fork. “Looks like it suits us both.”

Marta watched me eat my salad, but for some strange reason she was unable to touch her own food. After the third bite I finally turned to her with a raised eyebrow, a silent demand for her to reveal her thoughts to me.

“I was thinking,” she began in a soft tone of voice. “What will happen when you are gone?”

“Forgive me, but I don’t understand.”

“You live so far away.”

“Oh?” I mouthed with a sudden jerk of my head backwards. “I never really considered that.”

“How would this all work?”

“This is all still new, Marta. I really wouldn’t worry about them things now.” I raised a hand to rest it over her shoulder. “Let’s take this one day at a time.”

“Six days,” she clarified. “But what happens after that.”

“I can come up here and visit you on my time off.” I let my hand slid off her shoulder. “Whenever that is.”

“And in the meantime, we just talk on the phone,” she suggested in a disheartened way. “Or text.”

“It’s called a long-distance relationship,” I clarified for her. “But it could work.”

This idea disagreed with Marta, but she did not express her thoughts aloud. Instead, she slid off the bar-stool and made her way to the fridge for something comforting to drink. Two clear bottles were pulled out of the right shelf, and slowly Marta carried them over to place them in front of me. “I hope you like it.” Marta opened the first tall bottle, allowing me to see the label that it was mango flavoured soda. She handed me the open bottle and patiently waited for me to take the sip. “Well?”

“I feel like I am sitting on a beach at a tropical island when I drink it.” She laughed at my remark, and then reached over for her own bottle as well. “I like it.”

“It’s different.”

I raised the bottle in front of her as I exclaimed: “It sure is.”

“Here’s to one day at a time,” she suggested, after she tilted her clear bottle in my direction.

“And treasuring every moment together,” I added with utter severity. We brought our bottles together in a friendly way, hearing the light clang as the two glass bottles collided. I brought my bottle forward to guzzle the soda down, enjoying the bright tangy flavour that paired well with our salad.

Marta eventually returned to her seat, and to my surprise she wrapped an arm around me and laid her head over the side of my shoulder. “Thank you for staying.”

“Oh, I should thank you for having me,” I retorted with a sly smile that showcased my pleasure.

Marta was silent beside me, enough for me to tilt my head downwards to have a better look at her. She had been staring at me for quite some time. I raised up my eyebrows at her, which instantly brought Marta into a state of laughter. “What were you doing?” Marta leaned off my shoulder and then sat back properly in her seat.

“I was looking at you,” she assured me. “Enjoying the view.”

“Ah, flattering me.”

“Yes, Benny.”

My smile was so large I was sure she could see it. The fact that she found me attractive enough to stare at for a long period of time did some good to my ego. I reached for her hand and kissed the back of it in silent gratitude. One kiss was not enough, so I brushed my mouth downwards to kiss the back of her knuckles as well. Marta broke out in nervous laughter, for she was unaccustomed to seeing me behave this way. I kissed the front of her fingers too, and then looked down at the tips of her fingers with a satisfied smile. “You’re a beauty, Marta.” I stooped forward to kiss her on the top of her hand for one last time. “I’ll have trouble leaving ya.”

She was silent on her end, prompting me to look up to catch her eyes. She stared into mine deeply, never letting up for a moment. We moved forward at the same time, instinctively connecting our lips in rapid succession. Eyes closed I kissed her with all of my delight, pouring out my feelings onto her. It was hard to get any closer because of the high bar-stools, but I made the most of my situation. Unfortunately for Marta, she lost her balance, slipping off the bar-stool in a less elegant way that set me into a fit of laughter as well. I hunched over while laughing, trying to catch my breath as I heard her nervous giggles in front of me. It was too funny to see her arms flay outwards, the way she fell off the bar-stool with a tiny squeal. She managed to fall down onto her own two feet, but it was funny all the same.

“Benoit,” she complained, after I continued to laugh in front of her. “You should have caught me!”

“Marta, my dear girl.” I placed a hand over the hoods of my eyes as I let out the last of my laughter. “There was no time for that.”

“We should eat our food somewhere else.”

“Oh, no!” I argued back, after I dropped my hand away from my face. “Anywhere more comfortable and I won’t have a bite to eat.”

“Why?”

I outstretched my neck upwards to stare at the ceiling. A low exhale escaped my mouth. “Why?” I echoed. “Oh, I don’t know,” I cleverly lied.

“Benny?” Marta complained once again. She tugged at my hand and pulled it towards her. “Tell me.”

“I’d be too busy kissing ya,” I told her plainly. “That’s why.”

Marta placed my hand over the side of her cheek. She stepped in a little closer while she pressed my hand against the side of her face. I could feel the air leave my lungs when we were so close, surprised to see how much her movements alone had affected me.

“Maybe we should take our meals in separate rooms.”

“Life was easier when we were just friends,” I taunted back.

Marta slid my hand downwards to rest over the side of her neck. She released her touch, deciding to let my hand rest there without her help. She took another brave step forward, something that made my iris dilate to new levels. My hand slid downwards, feeling the grooves of her collarbone and the warmth of her bare skin. Any lower and I would be charting to unknown territory, so I shifted my hand upwards and let it curl around the natural rounded shoulder of Marta. I tugged her forward playfully, for I wanted her to be as close to me as possible.

“You said you don’t kiss your friends.”

“No.”

“A shame really.”

“I thought you would be happy.”

“Me? Happy?” I questioned her. “Why?”

“You moved up a status.”

I quirked my head to the left with surprise. “Oh, have I?”

“But I don’t like the term _boyfriend_ ,” she mused aloud. “Not with you.”

“And why not?”

“I don’t know,” Marta lied, before she instantly regretted it. She looked downwards, almost fearful of her bodies reaction to her little white lie. “I thought…” She bit down on her lip and then forced herself to look upwards. “You are too old for that.”

“I suppose,” I mouthed out slowly. “You can say that.” I let my thumb stroke the front of her shoulder. “But even at my age, men like us have girlfriends.”

“I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“I understand there is a large age gap between us,” I reasoned. “But I am no grandpa.” She giggled at my statement. “But I am not a young man either.”

“I don’t like young men,” she quickly retorted. “I’m- I’m…”

“Yeah?”

“Too mature for them,” she relayed with a shyness about her. “I feel like they would be dating their mom.”

“Oh, no,” I disagreed with Marta. “I wouldn’t say that.”

“That is because you are not in your twenties. Benoit, I think you are the right age for me.”

“You do?”

She nodded her head quickly with a smile slowly spreading over her face. Marta was convinced with this fact, enough for her to rest a hand over the top part of my chest and stroke it from side to side gently. “Yes.”

“You’re not just saying that?”

“I mean it. There is a reason I got along so well with Harlan. I must be a very old soul.”

“Ya sure are,” I said with utter conviction. “And that old soul of yours suits me well.” I let my hand curl downwards, feeling her solid back with some idle curiosity. “How about we stay in tonight. We can read, or maybe watch a good detective show. It will help my mind, since I am not at work. I miss it.” I offered her a reassuring smile as I added: “But I am happy to be here with you.”

“A night in sounds lovely.”

“We are going out tomorrow, anyways,” I reminded her. “To see our friends. It will be nice to catch up. You don’t mind, do ya?”

Her hand crept upwards to rest over the side of my neck. Marta leaned forward, closing off the last of the gap between us. I held my breath with anticipation, feeling the weight of her gaze upon me. She was the first to lean forward, to kiss my lips softly. I let out a small exhale once she was finished. Marta remained perfectly still, which made me realize there was something on her mind.

“What is it?” I questioned her.

“I am finding it harder to resist.”

“Me?”

She leaned forward and kissed my lips in answer. My shoulders relaxed, and leaned forward to close off the last of the distance between us. My legs spread out for her, encouraging Marta to come forward. Our chests were laid heavily over the other once the last of the gap was closed; the sides of my knees pinned her into me, while my arms were tight around her frame to keep her close. I kissed her hurriedly, feeling like each second was something to store. The burning sensation down below was too hard to ignore, it was clear more than ever that I wanted her. I breathed out her name without realizing it, unaware of how hard I was becoming for her. She pushed be backwards until my spine was pressed against the side of the counter. The bar-stool creaked beneath me, loud enough for me to remember I had to maintain my balance while sitting on this rigid old stool. I heard Marta breath out my name, a low purr that made me realize she was becoming aroused as well. I slid my hands downwards, placing it over her lower spine with the greatest temptation to cup her ass. The gentleman inside me was quickly dwindling, and a new man was threatening to emerge. I knew I had to stop her from kissing me soon, but I couldn’t help myself from letting her push the boundaries further and further.

Marta cupped the side of my face with her hands, pinning me in front of her so she could continue too lather her lips on mine. I moaned into her mouth deeply, feeling at a loss of words because of the way she was kissing me. Marta arched her chest forward, rubbing it against mine. I swallowed hard after another kiss, and then bowed my head downwards to keep her mouth from mine. My breathing was deep and erratic, and I had to do everything in my power to not touch myself down below. “I think we need to stop,” I warned in a deep tenor. “For now.”

A small step backwards captured my attention, for I knew then that Marta took my words seriously.

“It’s not your fault,” I assured her, for pain of offending her.

“I know,” she quickly responded. “I only agree.”

“Oh.”

She moved away from me, but in the corner of my eyes I could tell that she experienced some discomfort from walking. She managed to bring herself onto the other side of the kitchen counter. The sound of her guzzling down the soda soon filled the air.

My hand covered the side of my face tiredly, aware of how warm my cheeks currently were at this moment. I wanted to take things slow with Marta, but it was becoming harder to keep my word.

“Benoit?” I turned around on the bar-stool until I could finally face Marta. “I think…” Her cheeks were turning a shade of pink for some unknown reason. “I think I am going upstairs to take a shower.”

“Oh?”

“Feel free to wander around the place while I am gone,” she offered out quietly. “The dogs were just out, so that is one thing less to worry about.”

“I will set a fire up for you,” I suggested. “All ready for when you come downstairs.”

She nodded her head gravely, making me think there was something else on her mind. “Thank you,” she absentmindedly said. 

“Sure.”

“I will be back.” The empty bottle was placed down harshly upon the table. She cleared her throat with some discomfort, before she left the kitchen.

I smirked to myself the moment she was gone. It was clear why Marta needed a shower, and I had everything to do with it. With a wave of satisfaction I picked up my own bottle of soda and drank the last of it down. “You did good, Benoit,” I murmured to myself. “You did good.”

* * *

The tips of my toes brushed over the creamy beige carpet around her bed. The room was peacefully silent, barely a sound could be perceived by my ears as I sat there perfectly still. Her bedroom was cool, but the cashmere sweater was enough to keep me warm for the time being. I heard the scrapping of a cup across the bed-stand, and when I turned my head, Marta was just sipping on her hot chocolate. We shared a sweet, innocent smile before she broke her gaze away.

It was late at night, just after eleven o’clock, and yet, I had trouble leaving her bedroom. The evening had passed by blissfully, enough to reassure me that I made the right decision in expressing my feelings for her. Marta made sure to keep some physical distance from me after she came out of the shower this afternoon, and I made sure to abide to her unconscious decision.

Her lamp illuminated a portion of her room, but it was enough for me to clearly make out every detail over her bed. Her blankets were pushed back, enough for me to see Marta’s bare legs resting over the plain white bed-sheets. She wore tiny black shorts, all wrinkled and well-worn by the looks of it. I knew that she was wearing her normal night clothes now; a thin white tank-top with her black bra faintly perceived in the yellow-auburn lighting of her room. Her wavy hair falling down to her bare shoulders, brushing against the pillow that was pressed snugly against her back.

“I guess I should go to bed,” I found myself saying. It felt like ages since any of us spoke, so my voice captured her attention immediately. “It’s getting late.”

“I’ll see you in the morning,” she assured me.

I nodded my head meekly in front of her. My black mug was lifted up to my chest, seeing that it was completely empty. There was a voice that was telling me to stay, to delay my time leaving her for another few minutes. It was hard- that realization that I had trouble leaving Marta.

“You can stay,” a small voice hushed beside me. “For a little bit longer.”

“It’s late,” I reminded her.

“We are not children, Benny,” she nearly laughed. “I don’t have a bed-time schedule.”

My aqua blue eyes glistened with that realization, after I turned my gaze towards her.

“I hope you don’t get a call,” she uttered softly. “From work.”

“Don’t want me to leave?”

“Do you?”

I leaned forward to set my empty mug down on the floor. “No.” Slowly I moved upwards onto her bed, and let my legs dangle over the edge of it in a childish manner. Marta prodded her toe onto the side of my hip in an effort to tease me, before she moved her leg away. “What is it?”

“You look so comfy here.”

“I have you here.” Her cheeks blushed a light shade of pink, probably embarrassed by my open flatteries. “You don’t believe me?”

A long silence ensued, one where we retained eye contact for an incredibly long time. “I do,” she eventually related in a breathless voice. Marta broke our gaze, settling it down on her bare legs that was brightened by the lighting of her bedroom lamp. I felt the keenness temptation to touch her legs, rub my hands all over it. The room had become silent without me realizing it, and it wasn’t until Marta shifted backwards to press her back more firmly over the pillow that I had become aware of it. We were both lost in our minds, battling thoughts that can only be described as the keenest temptations. I knew that once I kissed her, tasted Marta’s lips that I would not be able to stop myself from wanting more from her.

“I should go,” I said with more determination this time. I reached downwards to retrieve my mug off the bedroom floor. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

Marta bit down on her bottom lip, which made me think she was holding something back.

“Is that okay with you?” Her silence was long, uncommonly so. My feet moved forward, pressing itself against the warm comfort of her carpet until I was standing in front of her bed-stand. I settled my mug down next to hers, clanging it softly to bring a noticeable sound to her room. “Do you want me to stay?” I asked in a deep tenor.

Marta continued to be silent, though she shifted herself uncomfortably over her bed. “No, you should leave,” she breathed out sullenly. She turned her head to the left, tilting it upwards to have a good look at me. “I think it is a good idea, after all.”

“You had second thoughts?” I teased, though I never expected her facial expressions to reveal the truth of the matter. “Marta?”

She blinked at me nervously, and then swallowed hard in front of me. “No,” she lied. Marta cleared her throat quickly. “Okay, I did,” she blurted out with misery. “But it is best that you go to your room.” Her hand moved over to the bed-stand to reach for her phone. I watched her shut it off for the night and lay it down flatly against the small table. Her hand flickered upwards to reach for the button on her lamp, and only then did she remember I was still standing there. “Goodnight, Benoit,” she said with utter coldness, before she flickered the lamp off. The room was cast into darkness, but it was a comfortable one. I remained where I was, knowing her last words were only a vain attempt to be rid of me.

“Aren’t you going to kiss me goodnight?”

“It is too dark for me to see.”

“Oh,” I drawled out. “You don’t need your eyes to kiss me, Marta.” My voice went deeper, a little richer as I added: “Just your _lips_.”

The silence fell over us like a heavy wool blanket, altering the ambience immediately. I never wanted to force Marta to do anything, if anything I wanted to follow her lead. I pushed my hands deep into my trouser pockets, feeling grateful that I was fully dressed when standing in the darkness with her.

“I think…” Marta began in a shaky voice. “That will have to wait until tomorrow.”

I brought my right hand upwards to scratch the back of my head. “Okay,” I quipped out in a loud, booming voice. “I’ll wait.”

My feet brushed over the last of the carpet before it touched the cold floor of her bedroom. I stopped in front of her doorway, and looked over my shoulder to glance in her direction.

“Goodnight, Marta.”

There was a faint sound from her, as if she let out a short exhale after holding her breath. The sound of her voice, the wobbly tone as she wished me goodnight was so unlike her that it confirmed my suspicions all along. She didn’t want me to leave her room, but it was in her best interest that I did leave her _without_ a kiss.

“See yah in the morning,” I droned, right before I stepped under the doorway of her room. I waited for half a second to hear anything back, maybe a word or even a sound that would betray her. Marta was resolved to see me off, however, so I left her bedroom without another look back.

* * *

It felt like our lives fell into a normal routine. We would wake up just after dawn to walk the dogs, a precious time to share meaningful conversations that I always looked forward too, and then after that we would have our breakfast together. I wasn’t the type of man to leave Marta alone in the kitchen, so we ended up working side by side together as we prepared our first meal. Marta let me work on the pancakes while she fried up the bacon and cut up strawberries for our breakfast.

By the time we sat down it was just after eight o’clock in the morning. I was happy that my phone showed me the time, but no messages from work so far.

“Hand me a napkin,” Marta asked me politely. I pushed my phone into my trouser pocket and handed her a stack of napkins to appease her. “Thanks.”

“Uh huh,” I murmured softly in a tired sort of way.

“Did you sleep well?”

“Well, enough.”

Her voice was peppy as she noted: “I slept well.”

I licked the tip of my finger since I got maple syrup on it. “Did you now?”

“Yes,” she guiltily replied. “You aren’t angry at me though.”

“For what?” I questioned her. “Getting a good night’s rest?”

“Not kissing you.”

“Oh,” I snickered softly. “See, I was wondering when you were going to bring this up.”

Marta reached for her cup of coffee. “I thought you would bring it up first thing this morning,” she quickly countered. “But all I got was a look.”

“I’m not bitter,” I assured her. “Just waiting for it, that’s all.”

“Waiting,” she repeated in a teasing sort of way. “For your kiss.”

“I ain’t got nothing all mornin’.” I must have looked annoyed, for she laid a hand on the top of my back. “But, I might be asking for too much.”

“I thought I should keep a distance,” she responded in a level tone of voice. “Just in case.”

I leaned to the right, giving her a good once over. Marta was dressed in a soft rosy pink jumper that was two times her size with black pants that were loose, and yet, comfortable to wear around the house. I liked the french-braids she did on the side of her head, while the rest of her hair was tied up in a neat pony-tail. It was one of them rare occasions when I could see the whole of her face, and my, was I enjoying every minute of it.

“I want to kiss you,” I found myself saying. “I mean, you looking like _that_ is just tempting.”

Marta looked down at the baggy jumper, utterly confused by my exclamation.

“You don’t have to get all dolled up for me,” I promised her. “I think you’re beautiful, Marta. Just how you are. I promise you that.” I tilted my chin upwards with some expectation. “Now, can I give you a good mornin’ kiss?”

Marta brought up her napkin to dab at her mouth. She shyly set it downwards with some deliberation, as she mused over my question. Slowly she used her hands to push herself off the high-bar stool, allowing herself to fall onto the ground with certain ease. “Off your chair,” she commanded. I raised up an eyebrow in question, but quickly obliged. Marta raised up a hand once I was coming to close to her in warning. “I want to say something first.”

“Sure.”

“I want to take things slow,” she relayed with her eyes darting from left to right nervously.

“I thought we were.”

“I am saying that more for myself,” she revealed to me in a higher pitch voice. “I… you see…”

I rested my hands over my hips as I patiently waited for Marta to continue. I knew she could be shy around me, but this was different.

“I feel different around you.” She let out a tiny exhale from the corner of her mouth. “Different then I do with other guys.”

“Alright.” My hands fell off the sides of my hips, for I elected to cross my arms instead. “In a good way?”

“You make me…”

“Uh huh.”

“Well, I feel that…” The poor girl was on pins and needles, so I decided to stop her before she went any further. I wrapped my arms around her, and tugged her small form over to me until she crashed against my chest. Marta was as shy as a school girl then, so I took the plunge and decided to kiss her first. Marta never fought back, no- she joined into my little game easily. Her shyness dissolved, and soon she was kissing me back with heated fervour. I leaned into her body to take her in more, tightening my grip around Marta until there was no escape. She kissed me back happily, going up on her toes to add some more height to her stature. I helped her out by lifting her high into the air, cupping her behind gratefully as she wrapped her arms around me. Perhaps there was a reason she was holding things off, we were moving pretty fast already. I paused to catch my breath, but Marta still kept going. Her hands were tight around the back of my neck, while her lips paraded the side of my cheek with sudden swiftness.

“Marta?” She kept going, bringing her mouth against the top part of my cheek with kisses that left me in a daze. “Marta, slow down, hun.” I moved my head back, enough to stop her from kissing me. “Shoot! If I get a kiss like that every mornin’ I swear I will be the first one out of bed. You really do love me, don’t ya?” I never gave her time to answer, for I broke our eye contact with sudden nervousness. “Surprised I managed to carry you so high in the air for this long. I guess I ain’t so old, am I?”

“No, Benoit.”

“You keep switching names.”

She offered me a genuine smile while ruffling up the back of my hair.

“Can’t decide which one, Marta?”

“I don’t know.” She closed her eyes with sudden bliss before she leaned her head forward to connect my lips with the top of her forehead. “I like them all.”

“Hmmmm,” I murmured into her crown. “I see what you mean.”

Marta tightened her hold around me, securing me with her arms so that I could never leave her.

“What you thinkin’ bout, honey?”

“You.”

“Yeah?”

Marta moved her head a certain way to maintain eye contact with me. For half a second she opened her mouth to say something, but then she closed it with deliberation. She moved forward to press her mouth over mine, kissing me with all the desire in the world. The thing about Marta was she was crazy about me, just as I was for her. You just can’t be satisfied with one kiss, no you have to have more. I swear we must have kissed for a full on minute, before she stopped herself to catch her breath. I continued to have her in my arms, liking the way she straddled me as I heaved her high into the air.

“You just as good as breakfast,” I told her, which brought forth a short burst of giggles. “And you know how much I love my food.”

“I remember.”

“How about I take you out tonight? There is a restaurant in town that is apparently good.”

“Will I run into anyone there?”

“If you do…” I arched my back to create more space from her. “I will take care of it.”

“If you’d like.”

“I would like to take you out,” I reasoned with Marta. “Take you on a _proper_ date. I think you deserve that, you know.”

She nodded her head eagerly, for she agreed with my statement.

“After that we can meet up with the boys for drinks. I won’t have anything, since I am driving and all.” I paused when Marta brushed the side of my hair neatly down. “How does that sound?”

“I like it,” she softly replied.

“And after that, I will take you home.” She looked at me a bit harder after that, something that made me suspicious. “What is it?”

“Home,” she stated. “I am still not sure if that is the right word for this place.”

“Alright. After that, I can take you over to Harlan’s place.” She laughed in my arms, a good sign at least. “Maybe I will even sleep in his bed tonight. Don’t give me that look now. I’m just fixin’ ya. No, I am quite fine with my room. It is a mighty fine room, Marta.” I let out a guilty grin, for I liked the way she narrowed her eyes at me. “With a nice comfy bed. Say, your bed is pretty comfy too.”

“Where are you going with this, Benoit?”

“Oh, I was just discussin’ beds, that’s all.”

Marta leaned forward to peck her lips over mine. “Alright.”

“We have nice beds,” I continued. “And this is a nice place.” My arms grew tired so I settled her back down on the floor. “And it’s your place now. You just got to learn to accept that.” I tugged on her hand to send her back to our high-bar stools so we could return to our breakfast. “And if you can’t then maybe you need to find yourself a place that really does feel like a home.” I watched her take a seat, and then leaned against the counter to have a good look at her. “Does this place feel like a home?”

“It feels like _Harlan’s_ home.”

“Well, it’s your home now.”

“Maybe,” she admitted. “I guess.”

“Or it’s the Thrombey’s,” I suggested. Marta surprisingly nodded her head at my statement. “You want to give it back to them?”

“They don’t deserve it.”

“No,” I drawled out. “They don’t.”

“But it is their home,” she deliberated aloud. “I wish he never gave it to me.”

“Can’t give it back,” I reminded her playfully. “Too late for that now.”

“Should I put it on the market?”

“This place?” I asked with surprise. “Only if you want too. I’d say you’d get a lot of money from it. But you rich already, so what does that matter?”

“Or open it up as a museum?” she suggested lightly. “For his fans to come in and tour the place.”

“And Walt can be the tour guide,” I chuckled. “No, but that ain’t a bad idea.”

“I can talk to the publisher’s about it. I haven’t changed up the place too much. It is exactly how Harlan left it.”

“It would be given up for a good cause,” I admitted. “And you can make money from all the visitors that come over here to see the place.” I took a seat next to Marta gratefully. “I think that is a grand idea.”

“You approve of it?”

“I sure do.”

“Benoit, thank you.” She reached for her cup of coffee and dragged it over to her. “I really do appreciate it.”

“I would do anything for you, Marta.”

“I know.”

My voice was gravely serious as I repeated: “Anything.”

“Then don’t ever leave,” she half joked, though I could see the pain reflecting in her eyes as she said it. “No, of course you can go.”

“Why would I want to do a thing like that?”

“You have work.”

“Yeah, I got me some work,” I admitted with a slow nod of my head. “But after that, I will be coming straight for you.”

“It’s a long drive, Benoit.”

“I’d drive the distance to see you,” I promised her. “I’d take a plane if necessary.”

We shared a genuine smile that showed the true happiness that surrounded our conversation. I would go the extra mile for her, sacrifice anything just to keep this pretty little ol’ girl happy. I loved her. Oh, boy! The thought itself made the pit of my stomach go all funny. I let my gaze waver away, hoping she couldn’t see the truth behind my eyes.

Marta returned to her meal, but I was still sitting there like a bump on a log. There are times in our life when an epiphany- a sudden realization just throws us in a loop. I loved this girl beside me, loved her more than anything I could ever possibly imagine.

“You’re not eating.”

“Thinkin’.”

“About?”

“Making reservations for tonight,” I lied. It’s a good thing I don’t have Marta’s condition, otherwise I would be hurling up my breakfast. “Does six o’clock sound fine? Or would you rather it later?”

“If we are meeting up with Lieutenant Elliot and Trooper Wagner, then it would be best to have our dinner early.”

“Sure thing, sweet thing.” Her giggles sounded through the air, a good sign that our morning was going well. It’s like how that old saying goes: “Happy wife, happy life.” Oh, I knew Marta wasn’t my wife, but she was something dear to me. If I can see her laughing and smiling at me all day long then I knew that I was doing something right. If I make her happy, well, that is all that matters to me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter after this! Oh, I wonder what will happen then ;)


	9. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things start to heat up between Benoit and Marta. As they take their relationship to new levels, it also makes them question the future of their romantic relationship together.

There are times in a man’s life when he understands his purpose. Everything becomes clearer to him, as if he could visualize every step in his life that should lead to this exact moment. The way I see it, Marta and I belong together. It is as clear as day now. She was seated opposite me, looking more stunning than ever. Her nutty brown hair was tossed and curled over the sides of her shoulder like she had spent the day at sea; wind–blown and careless as ever. Marta’s head was tilted downwards, examining the menu that was positioned in front of her. A part of it rested on her lap, just enough for me to see the deep, contemplative look which now escaped her. She was nervous about leaving the house at first, but once Marta realized that I would be there to protect her, it made her relax just a little bit more.

I smiled at the sight of her, aware of the warm fluttering feeling at the bottom of my stomach. The corner of my right lip quirked upwards in pure happiness. Everything felt so easy now.

“What are you feeling?” Marta’s words broke through my thoughts, almost startling me for a moment. Her gaze was still directed on the olive green menu in front of her. “They have a lot of Italian food here.”

“Pasta,” I chimed in. “Pizza.”

Marta glanced over the menu, trying to fight back a smile. “Yeah,” she lightly laughed. “See anything interesting?”

“Oh,” I drawled out slowly. “Something filling.” I lowered my menu, laying it on the table-spread next to my dinner plate. “You know I how I like my food.” I smirked at her in a teasing way, mainly because I was so enthralled by the beauty of her. “What do you think of this place?”

Marta looked around the room, taking in the dark auburn coloured walls with its many mirrors decorating the dining room. The restaurant had a lot of greenery: ferns, low rounded vases with small sunflowers near the front entrance, and over our table was a small bouquet of flowers that were perfect for the late autumn season. My mind went back to the florist, remembering how jealous Marta was at me speaking to her. I suppose there were signs all along of how we felt about one another, all we needed was a little push.

“I’m happy I came by your house,” I spoke aloud. “And that you let me into your place.”

Marta wore a sweet smile that displayed her innocent, and yet, kind nature. “I…” She paused and then let out a small exhale to make herself feel more at ease. “I was shocked to find you at my doorstep,” she admitted to me. “But it was a happy surprise.”

“Well, it was a bit spontaneous,” I acknowledged. “But I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” My fingers shifted the bottom of my knife nervously over the pale white table spread. I was not inclined to fidget, but this type of conversation forced a peculiar nature out of me. “Wondering how you were doing,” I continued. “If- if you ever thought about me. You know, like how I thought about you.” My gaze finally shifted, drifted upwards to have a good look at Marta. “I am not sure if we had chemistry back then.” Marta leaned forward with interest, pressing her chest over the top of the menu. “I knew we got along well. It…” I brushed the back of my hand over my forehead quickly. “It wasn’t like a father-daughter relationship. Shucks, it wasn’t a friendly one either. I suppose in a way it was, but I was awfully protective of you. I wanted to defend you.”

“I know you did.”

“I never liked the way the Thrombey’s treated you,” I added in a deeper tone of voice.

She nodded her head in understanding, but remained silent in front of me.

“See the case interested me, but you captivated my attention just as much. There was something about you. Oh, I knew I had to get close to you. Not only for the case, but because…” I leaned forward in my seat. “I felt _compelled_ too.”

My hand flapped open the menu as a needful distraction. Marta continued to be silent in front of me, but I knew she was taking in my words. “How do you feel about it?” I inquired. “About what I said?”

“No, I agree with you,” she told me plainly. “You were protective. If it wasn’t for you I would have given my whole inheritance to the Thrombey family. You solved the case. Benoit, you made me realize that I am innocent! Do you know how that feels? The guilt weighing over my shoulders and then…” She drew a hand upwards to cover a portion of her face. Marta was becoming emotional, but in a good way. “I thought I _killed_ him.”

“It only looked that way.”

“If it wasn’t for you I don’t…” She stopped herself short. “I just wanted to say thank you. Really, like from the bottom of my heart.” A warm smile spread across her face, it brightened by the moment only for me. “And now we are together,” she said with a bit of nervousness. “You are like my boyfriend now.”

“Like?”

“You are my boyfriend,” she corrected herself with a light shade of pink blushing over her cheeks. “You are find with that term?”

“Or you could say partner,” I bellowed out in a loud tone of voice. “Sherlock and Watson. That sort of thing. After all, we make a fine team.”

“Yeah,” she laughed.

“I could be your boyfriend too,” I added in a much more sultry voice this time. “This is our first official date. Hopefully there will be more in the future.”

“Yes,” she said with too much eagerness.

“And you have a crush on me,” I acknowledged aloud to her surprise. “When? Oh! And how? I want to know all of the details.”

“Wouldn’t you rather decide what we should have for dinner?” Marta slyly asked. “The waiter will be here any moment.”

“No, this is far too interesting.”

“When?” she mouthed out slowly, while looking up at the pale white ceiling. Her golden hoop earrings sparkled in the candlelight, while I took in the detail of her eye makeup that she applied for tonight. “When?” she said with a hint of mockery this time. “I thought you were sweet. I liked your protective nature. I felt that you were on my side. At the same time I feared you would discover my secret. It is the reason I sided with-”

“-Ransom,” I interjected.

“Yes, because it was easier with him. I knew him longer.” She fidgeted with the knife in front of her, swaying it back and forth light. “But over time,” she continued in a somber tone of voice. “I could not trust him as much. After the car chase, when he was taken into custody by the lieutenant, I began to realize that I was all alone. I had to figure out this problem- find the blackmailer all by myself.” She reached for her glass of water and took a light sip, allowing herself to recollect her thoughts for a moment.

I let my mind slip away as well, remembering how I stole that sweet opportunity to get into her car. I thought it was Ransom that convinced her to go on that crazy car chase. God, how wrong I was about that one.

“Marta,” I called out. “Did you ever like him?”

“Ransom!”

“Yeah, Ransom.”

“I thought he was handsome,” she admitted aloud. “But he is such a dick, you know.”

I laughed at her exclamation, mainly because I never anticipated it.

“He has that all American look.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“But he isn’t…” She let her gaze fall downwards, letting it rest over the empty plate in front of her. “I never really liked a guy that looks…” A strange smile graced her lips, and then she was brave enough to lock eyes with me. “I think _you_ are handsome, Benoit.”

“Oh?”

She nodded her head gleefully, it was a perfect moment to shine a bright ol’ smile my way.

“I think you are gorgeous,” I stated in a leveled tone of voice. “Just beautiful. Inside and out!”

“Thank you, Benoit.”

I pulled at the edge of my right sleeve with nervousness, feeling the stiff fabric of my black suit jacket. “I guess we ought to order something. That young man will be here any minute.”

“Yes,” she softly agreed with me. “This place is too nice to have pizza.”

“What are you thinking then?” I rapped out quickly.

“They have fried calamari.” I let out a soft chuckle of surprise. “I am looking at the appetizers for now.”

“If you have that, well, I might have a bowl of soup. I see they have Boston Clam Chowder.” I titled my head to the right questionably. “They have a lot of seafood items at this place. Do you think they couldn’t make up their mind in the direction of where they wanted to go with this restaurant?”

“This could be a case,” she quipped.

“The case of the mysterious menu.”

She laughed at my statement, letting the hoods of her eyes close slightly with delight. “You could do better than that.”

“I am by no means a comedian, Marta.” She chuckled at my statement anyways. “But this would be a good mystery.”

“This strange menu,” she gibed, while teasingly waving her menu in front of her chest.

“And the name… _Audrey’s_ ,” I continued. Is it really inspired by the actress or is there something more sinister behind it?” I leaned forward in my seat. “Is it another donut hole?”

“Inside of a donut hole,” she finished for me.

I broke out in laughter after that. Marta, my dear girl was quite something special. “Ya a sweet thing,” I drawled out in a musical way. “It’s why I like you.”

“I like you too,” she told me with confidence. “What will be our entries, Benoit?”

“Maybe more seafood,” I teased. “No, I need some _soul_ food. Something heavy enough to put me to sleep tonight.”

“They have steak.” I hummed at her in response, since it was not the kind of food I was craving. “Lasagna?”

“Maybe.”

“Should we have went somewhere else for dinner?”

“No,” I lied. “This place is different.”

“I never expected you to be a picky eater.” It was a gibe, I knew, so I merely laughed under my breath in response. “We should have eaten in.”

“I wouldn’t be able to see you all dressed up,” I answered Marta, without letting my eyes drift away from the menu.

“I guess I could say the same about you,” she said with utter brashness. I knew she was commenting on my own attire, which was suitable for such an occasion. I was wearing an all-black suit and tie; the only thing that could be attributed to my normal wear was my plaid jacket and trusty suspenders.

“I think I am going to have fried chicken.” I shut the menu with a sense of satisfaction. “Salad as my appetizer and probably pumpkin pie for dinner.”

“Pie?” she laughed.

“Why not? It’s cold outside, ain’t it?”

“Yes.”

“What you having for dessert, darlin’? The same thing as me?”

“Maybe apple.”

“Apple?”

“Apple pie,” she clarified. “I like dessert when it is really sweet.” She leaned back into her seat while brushing back her curly hair. “This place is nice though,” she commented. “And you look very handsome this evening,” she complimented me with a glitter to her eyes. “I am happy to be here.”

“So am I,” I said with utter eagerness. “Why, I am over the moon right now. You can shoot me dead.” She laughed at my statement. “Not literally speaking. I am just saying-”

“-I know, Ben.”

“I really hope I can stay the whole time,” I mused aloud. “It feels like things are too good to be true.”

“Yeah.”

“Marta, I’m crazy about you,” I told her with a wave of feeling. “I hope you know that. And I would like this thing to work when I’m gone.”

“We will make it work.”

“Long distance is hard,” I related with some sadness betrayed in my voice. “But I want you to know that I will fight for you.”

She bent her head downwards, wearing a contemplative expression. I suppose it was still an adjustment for her, knowing that we were finally allowing ourselves to speak freely with each other.

“I’ve been thinking,” she began. “It is not set in stone.” She looked over her shoulder to make sure the waiter had not approached our table yet. “But I think I will have Harlan’s house become a museum. They do that all the time, don’t they? Museum’s for famous writers.”

“They sure do.”

“I will have to speak about it with my mother. I am not sure of her plans, and if she wants to live with me still. I have enough money to let her have her own place.”

“That’s true.”

“But I like living with her,” she contemplated aloud. “It would make me feel less alone.” She closed her eyes briefly. “At the same time…” Marta opened her eyes and stared into mine with some boldness to her. “I might want to start a family one day.”

“Oh?”

“I thought…”

“We talkin’ about family now,” I chuckled in good humour.

“Oh, no!” Marta cried out sheepishly. “I am only saying at some point down the line-”

“-you want kids,” I cut in.

“Well, I…” She shrugged her shoulders timidly. “I might one day.”

“Ya still young,” I mused aloud. “There is time.”

“What about you?”

“Me? I thought I was past that age now.” She nodded her head in understanding, but I detected a certain level of sadness to her. Immediately she lost eye contact with me, and already I could tell her mind was drifting away. “But I never met someone I wanted to share my life with,” I added. “I thought I had, but it never worked out.”

“Oh.”

“That is until now,” I remarked in a lower tenor. “If you want to push me.”

“Push you?”

“Into this line of conversation,” I related with a raised hand. “I can go there.”

“It was never my intention,” she quickly excused herself. “I don’t even know how we managed to-”

“-Marta!” I called out. “The two of us have been walking around in circles this whole time. Afraid to step on the other’s toes. I am happy we are having a conversation like this. And if I can be so bold, I wouldn’t mind having children if we ended up in a more serious relationship.” I cleared my throat to shake off that uncomfortable feeling that lingered over me. “We are supposed to take this relationship day by day, but I don’t mind talking about these things. See, I like you Marta. I like you a lot. I am willing to invest in our relationship. How do you feel about that?”

“I still don’t know how we ended up talking about children,” she nervously stammered out. “But for some reason I don’t mind… well…” She smoothed down her dress over her lap. “I can picture that kind of thing with you.”

My voice had a slow drawl as I responded: “And so can I.”

“But that is a little too ahead of us,” Marta reasoned. “I don’t want to talk about those things right now with you, Benoit. I want to get to know you more. Tell me…” She brushed back her bangs so she could see me more clearly. “When you go away, when do you think you can return here?”

“As soon as I can.”

“Okay.”

“What about you?” I said with an obvious strain to my voice. “Would you come down south to see me?”

“Yes,” she giggled after she let a large smile escape her. “I would like to see where you live.”

“A nice house!” I yelled out. “Bungalow with three rooms. Yes, it is a bit excessive, but I liked the area.”

“City or country?”

“What you think?”

“Country.”

“Smart girl,” I quipped. “Awfully clever of you. But it is still close enough to the shops and other places that young ladies like yourself would like to go.”

“Benoit, I don’t go shopping.”

“Silly of me.” I raised up my hand to get the waiter’s attention. “I forgot you hate the fact that you are a multi-millionaire.” I winked at her teasingly before the waiter approached our table, while feeling ever so happy that I could order our dinner at last.

* * *

Lieutenant immediately rose out of his chair and clapped his hands in a celebratory way. It was generating a lot of attention in the patio area, but he was too thrilled by the sight of us to care. Trooper Wagner let out nervous laughter, and raised up his half empty pint into the air in good gesture.

Marta leaned into my shoulder, completely embarrassed by our warm reception. We had been spotted walking down the sidewalk and crossing the street hand in hand, and now our friends had uncovered the truth of our relationship.

“Man!” Lieutenant Elliot yelled out. “I can’t believe it!”

I raised up my hand in an effort to shush him up, knowing Marta would only become more uncomfortable when she was under the spotlight.

“Wow,” Trooper laughed. “Is this really happening?”

Marta was practically burying her head into the side of my jacket, probably wishing we were heading the opposite direction. I let go of her hand to protectively wrap my arm around her waist, pulling Marta into my side. My right hand moved upwards to push back the low black gate, creating a wide enough gap for us to enter the bar’s patio area.

We had to walk past a few customers, weaving around the tables to get to the far left where my two friends were already holding a table for us. A navy blue umbrella provided enough shade to bloke out the last of the sunlight, and by the plush cobalt blue pillows behind the steel black chairs, I knew we would have somewhere comfortable to sit at last.

“Hello Lieutenant,” I said with utter politeness. “Pleasure.”

“Oh, yes it is,” he drawled out cunningly. “Hello Blanc.” He looked down at Marta, since she was so much smaller than him. “And Marta. It is good seeing you again. We hope you like this area, it is quieter out here.”

“Yeah,” Trooper chimed in. “We can barely talk over the music. There is supposed to be a live band later on tonight.”

“But we won’t be staying out that late,” the lieutenant reasoned. “We have work tomorrow.”

Trooper removed his sunglasses and then politely urged Marta to have a seat across from him. A giddy, almost childish grin was permanently set over his face. I knew it was because he could not believe Marta and I were actually together.

Marta was the first to sit down, compelling the rest of us to join her at the table. I brushed off my heavy jacket since it was an unusually warm night, and then helped Marta with the same endeavour.

“Is there a waiter around?” I questioned the two men. “Or do I have to go inside to order a drink for Marta?”

“No, a waiter will come,” Trooper piped up happily. “I’ll need a second one anyways. You joining me? The lieutenant is having coffee.”

“That sounds like a mighty fine beverage,” I taunted. “Quite sensible.”

“Yeah,” the lieutenant droned out softly. “I am the one driving this man home, so…” He shrugged his shoulder. “Got to do the right thing, you know.”

“I understand.” I leaned back into my seat and then turned my head in Marta’s direction. She was unusually quiet, which caused me some level of concern. “You having red wine tonight?”

“I think so.”

“I’ll be having coffee like the lieutenant,” I reassured her. “You let me know if you want anything else.” When I turned my head back to the two men I could feel their stares, and then did my best to avoid it.

Trooper Wagner was the first one to break the tense silence. “So, is anyone going to address the elephant in the room?” he giggled. “Or are we just going to pretend-”

“-Trooper,” his partner interrupted. “I think it is fairly obvious what is going on.”

“Yeah, but I want to hear about it.” There was an excitable air about him now, so much that he was leaning across the table to bring himself closer to Marta. “So, go on.”

I crossed my right leg over the other and then leaned back in my seat with a calm demeanour. I was much older than Trooper Wagner, and I suppose it made me much wiser as well.

“Well, gentlemen,” I bellowed. “How are you doing?”

“Really?” Trooper spoke out with raised hands in open exclamation. “You’re not going to tell me anything.”

“You are a detective,” I pointed out. “I will let you figure it out.”

“Okay, so you told her how you feel,” the younger man continued. “And then she reciprocated those feelings. Am I right?”

I sat there perfectly still, knowing if I opened my mouth I might say something I would regret. Marta came to my rescue and leaned her left elbow over her table to bring herself closer to Trooper. “I think,” she said in a soft tone of voice. “We would prefer not to go into it right now.”

“Alright,” Trooper submitted.

“But yes, we are a couple now.”

“Oh, that’s great,” he said with pure enthusiasm. “You know, he’s liked you for a while now.”

“Yes, he told me.”

“Blanc is a good man,” Trooper continued. He brought up his pint to drain down the last of his light coloured ale. “You couldn’t have chosen a better man. He is a true gentleman! I’d say Benoit Blanc is the last of the gentlemen sleuths, a brilliant mind with a good heart.”

“Thank you for the recommendations,” I said with a hint of amusement.

“Yeah, no problem!” He turned in his seat to look for the waiter. “I am going inside to ask for another one. They are taking too long. Okay, so one cup of coffee-”

“-black!” Marta and I said at the exact same time.

“Black,” Trooper giggled. “Okay, and then you want red wine. Any particular kind?”

Marta shrugged her shoulders in response, and then to my surprise she pushed back her chair as well. “I will come inside and see what they have.”

“Great! Okay, we can go together.”

“Benny,” Marta purred before she rubbed her hand over the top of my shoulder. “You can stay here. I will be back.”

I nodded my head stiffly at her in response, while trying to hide that look of disappointment. The two of them left the table in no time at all, leaving me with the taunting gaze of an old friend.

“Benny,” he mockingly gibed. “Alright, break it down for me. What happened?”

“I told her how I felt,” I bluntly replied. “And to my surprise she felt the same way.”

“I have to admit, even I didn’t see that coming.”

“She is a sly one.”

“You can say that again.” The lieutenant fell into the comfy pillow behind his seat and then looked over his shoulder to see the crowded patio. “How long are you staying in town again?”

“Five to six days,” I guessed.

“And after that?”

“I will come up here on my days off. Use my vacation time here as well.”

“And Marta and you will have a long distance relationship then.”

“At the moment, yes.”

He reached for his cup of coffee and took a leisurely sip. The patio area was peacefully quiet, unlike the blaring stereo system that was coming from the tavern. The last few rays of orange lighting descended from the heavens, creating a dark halo of auburn gold over the steel black table in front of me. I could feel the lingering heat that came over the town this evening, making me miss the cool weather that Marta was able to enjoy up here.

I readjusted my black tie, hoping to distract myself when my mind kept worrying about Marta’s lengthy absence.

“Blanc!” I glanced upwards to see the dark eyes of the lieutenant staring in my direction. “I am happy for you.”

“Thanks.”

“Trooper didn’t say it so elegantly. But yeah, you are a good guy for her. Marta is a nice girl.”

“She is.”

“A nice girl like that deserves a gentleman like you. I wish the two of you all the best.”

“Why does it sound like…”

“What?”

“It sounds like something you would say at a wedding.”

“Wooo!” he yelled out with his hands up defensively. “No, I wasn’t taking things that far.”

“Okay.”

“You want that?”

“Wedding.” I shook my head at him rather quickly. “I can’t think about that right now.”

“Does Marta know that?”

“I…” My shoulders shrugged upwardly in response. “Down the line, I guess.”

“Early days,” he acknowledged. The last of his coffee was consumed, and then he softly rested it over the table. “I would get another one, but they are taking so long.”

“I will check on them.” My chair was pushed back quickly and I was already on my feet to figure out the cause of their lengthy absence.

“Order me a coffee while you are there!” I waved my hand at him in response and quickly stormed down the long patio area to get to the inside of the bar. It was extremely dark inside the building, only a few stray lights with neon green signs glowing from the shabby wall of the tavern. The classic rock music was annoyingly loud, and the scent of alcohol flooded my senses almost immediately. I looked around for the Trooper and Marta, but I was unable to find them near the front entrance. I stepped forward, never stopping until I was standing in front of the long bar table with my arms heavily crossed over the other in irritation. I looked to my left and then to my right, and in a blink of an eye a door to the men’s washroom swung open and Trooper Wagner appeared. He waved his hand in my direction, and stepped forward with a careless air.

“Where is Marta?” I yelled over the music.

“I left her here.”

My eyes flashed with anger, enough for me to look away from him to go searching the area for Marta myself. She was small and vulnerable, and being the heir to Harlan’s estate and the rest of his properties made her an easy target. I walked around in the darkness of the bar in search of her, and only when I caught sight of her long black dress with pattern flowers of a fluorescent pink that I recognized her at once. She was standing near a corner of a long bar table, with two mugs of coffee in hand. There was a tall man talking to her, and by her expression I could tell that she wanted him to be gone.

“As I was saying,” the man arrogantly yelled over the music. “I think it must be hard for you to have all of that inheritance to yourself. It would be easier to share it with someone. I think that is why you need a man in your life. He could protect you and take care of those things. I think being an accountant would make me the perfect candidate.” He looked over his shoulder once he realized that Marta had suddenly become distracted.

“Excuse me,” I gruffly stated, before I brushed my shoulders against him to get to Marta. “Thank you for the coffee, darlin’.” I reached for the two mugs and decided it was best to hold on to them, otherwise these hands would be used for something else that Marta would most certainly disapprove of. Trooper Wagner joined our small circle as well, staring at the stranger that somehow made Marta take a detour to the other side of the bar. Trooper rested his hands over his hips, enough to show his belt and the golden badge that was strategically placed there.

“Can I help you?” Trooper asked in an intimidating way, enough to surprise me that he had a tough side to him after all.

The younger man swallowed hard before he brushed the top of his low buzz-cut hair. “No, sir.”

“Alright then.” Trooper remained where he was, uncomfortably close to the young man for him to get the meaning.

The man took a step back, but some force of evil was bent on him staying around Marta. “As an accountant,” he continued. “I could handle your financial affairs.”

“She’s not interested,” I bellowed out with a look of warning.

“I think it would be the wise thing to do,” the man countered, clearly sober enough for him to maintain his ground. “Everyone knows of your situation, Marta.”

“She ain’t interested,” I insisted, and this time I took a step forward with the two small mugs of coffee in my hand. “I hope you can get my drift.”

He stared at me hard, sizing me up to see if I would break. Normally I was not a confrontational man, but when someone is giving Marta a hard time it sets my soul on fire.

“I get it,” the man submitted. “My name is Daniel,” he said over my shoulder, in an effort to still speak to Marta. “I work in the town. If you ever want to meet up.” He turned his gaze to me this time. “For dinner or something.” I frowned at him profusely, enough for him to sense my displeasure. “When you don’t have your body guards around.” He looked at me from head to toe in a dismissive air. “See you around then.”

I bit down on my tongue, conflicted if I should say something that would ultimately start a fight. My hands moved faster than I could imagine, and with a fluid motion I handed the mugs to Trooper Wagner and stormed after the man. He was unaware of it until it was too late, and only when I was about to grab a hold of his arm that I felt a sharp tug on the sleeve of my suit jacket. I turned around to see Marta, watching her shake her head in the negative. “It’s not worth it,” she warned.

“But Marta.”

“Really,” she stressed. Her hand moved downwards until it lightly grazed the back of my hand. I felt her turn my hand around until my left palm was facing her. “But thank you.”

“I didn’t even do anything yet.”

“You did enough,” she assured me. “The guy is a jerk. It’s as clear as day.”

“I don’t like him talking to you in that way.”

“There is a reason I don’t like to go out the house.” She stepped forward and to my surprise hooked an arm around my waist. “That is, until now.” She went on her toes to kiss my lips, suppressing my anger instantly by a single touch. Marta let her heels fall onto the floor, and then drove her head into the center of my chest comfortingly. I wrapped my arms around this sweet treasure, happy to have her back into my life. Trooper’s lips were becoming wobbly, probably emotional from our affectionate display. I merely laughed at the spectacle, because his reaction felt just right. “Why are you laughing, Benoit?”

“Trooper.”

“Oh?”

I turned her around to face the gentleman, taking in his changing expression as he tried to keep himself composed. “Come here, Trooper.”

He stepped forward with eagerness, burying the two cups of coffee into his chest. “That was cute,” he relayed, showcasing a sentimental side. “It was like a movie.”

“Ah shucks! Give me the cups of coffee.” He handed the mugs and then let out an awful grin that I wished I did not have the pleasure of seeing. “Go and get your beer, Trooper.”

He left without another word, intent on scoring himself another pint to celebrate the evening. I could hear the small slurping of Marta in front of me, compelling me to look downwards to see her just inches away from my chest. “I got coffee too,” she remarked, before she tilted her cup in a happy gesture. “Not black though.”

“Did he make you uncomfortable?”

“That guy? It was like meeting a gold digger.” She took another sip of her coffee, but it was slower this time. “The things that Harlan had to put up with.”

“He had a family of leeches instead.”

“We should go back to our seat.”

“After Trooper gets his drink. Marta, thank you for putting some sense into me back there. I don’t know what I would have done if you didn’t stop me.”

“Oh, I know exactly what you would have done,” she warned. “But I wouldn’t have allowed it.”

“All I saw was red,” I admitted aloud. “I’m sorry.”

“It is okay, Benny.” She patted her hand over the top of my chest. “It shows you care.”

“I do care.”

She let her hand slip upwards, caressing my neck which instantly made me shudder to her touch. After all this time she still had power over me. Marta went on her toes to delicately kiss my lips, it was enough to make my heart stop beating for a moment. I stared down at her with nothing but love, amazed that I had this woman in my arms.

“Hello there,” Trooper nervously stammered out. “I’m ready.” He raised his free hand in the air defensively. “Sorry for interrupting the moment.”

“It’s okay,” Marta replied. “Let’s go.”

“Hey!” he called out, after Marta took a few steps away. “I am sorry about leaving you alone like that. I should have invited one of the guys to come inside of here as well. I never intended to go to the washroom, but you know, nature calls.” He chuckled nervously at that, while wearing an apologetic look. “But it won’t happen next time.”

My voice was strong when I answered him: “That is because there won’t be a _next_ time.”

He bit down on his bottom lip timidly, and then nodded his head in quick submission. It was time to go outside, and enjoy what was left of the evening with my former work friends.

* * *

Marta was seated on the edge of her bed beside me. Her bare feet were scuffing up the fluffy carpet beneath her bed, creating a soft sound that captured my attention immediately. Her make-up had been removed and her hair was as wild as ever. A white V-neck t-shirt with sleeves rolled up slightly gave a certain edge to her look, while that familiar black bra had been replaced with a clean white lace that can barely be perceived under the lighting of her bedroom lamp.

“Our music taste is so different,” she remarked in a cheery air. I watched her lick her bottom lips as she reached for the last of her wine. She allowed herself a small serving for tonight, only after I agreed to share some of it with her as well. I had been silent for the better part of the evening, but it was a happy complacent one in truth. “I will have to teach you how to dance to my Spanish music.”

“You will,” I agreed with her in a deep tone of voice.

“Are you tired?”

“Not yet.”

“It is nearly midnight,” she acknowledged. Marta took a small sip of her fruity tasting wine and then went in for a second one. “I am not tired at all.”

“You had too much fun,” I suggested. “The boys made you laugh.”

“It’s the three of you together,” she assured me. “I could watch it all day.”

“But I like when it is the four of us. Especially now that we are together.”

“I think my mom knows,” she whispered. “She called when you were in the shower after we came home.”

“Oh?”

“I think she is taking it well.”

“You thought that she would disapprove?” I asked with worry.

“She wonders if it is because I am alone.” Marta placed her small wine glass down on the table to the left of her. “But that isn’t the case.” She crossed her legs with certain grace and rested her arm over it. “I don’t care. Sorry. I don’t mind being alone, that is what I am trying to say. Being bilingual is tough.”

I laughed at her statement, even though I was ignorant of the matter.

“Like my brain goes translating things from one language to another. It is even worse when I am nervous.” She tilted her head in my direction to stare at my profile. “But I am not nervous right now. No, not anymore.”

“You were?”

“Oh, yes,” she agreed with a wave of feeling. “Especially when we were in this house alone together.”

“Why?”

“Oh, you looked at me a certain way,” she admitted, while raising up her left arm to cover the side of her face with her hand. “And I could feel myself responding to it.”

“In what way, Marta?”

“I don’t know,” she lied. A loud sigh escaped Marta since she was unable to fully lie to me. “You know what I mean,” she said as an excuse. “I can’t control that part of me.”

“Well, I don’t want you too,” I told her plainly enough. I looked over my shoulder to see her neatly made bed. Courage besieged me, so I moved further back into it, all the while ignoring the tiny squeaks and groans of this uncommonly old bed. “Do you like this room?”

“I used to sleep here whenever I had to stay the night. It is close enough to Harlan if he ever needed me.”

“A little too close,” I pointed out with some distrust.

“It was never like that.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Marta moved back in her bed as well, purposefully brushing her leg against mine. We sat side by side together in awkward silence, enough for me to figure out that she was waiting for me to make the first move.

“So…” I turned my head in her direction, taking my time to analyze her profile. “You don’t find it strange having me up here now that we are together.”

“No.”

“Oh, I see.”

“Should I?”

I shrugged my shoulders at her in response, since I was at a loss for words.

“I see nothing wrong with it.”

“As long as you understand it has other implications,” I muttered under my breath.

“Oh.”

I turned my gaze away from her, deciding it was best to look at her open doorway instead. Another lapse of silence fell over us, and it was more painful than the last one. I tapped my finger over the top of my lap, trying to distract herself for a moment.

“You know I am a virgin now,” she stammered out with a strain to her voice.

“I do.”

“And that doesn’t bother you?”

“As I told you the last time, Marta, no it does not.”

She became silent beside me, which instantly put me into a state of worry. I turned my head in her direction, realize she was watching me all along. “At least _you_ will know what you are doing.” I swear I lost my breath at that moment, as if I fell off a twenty storey building in a matter of seconds.

“Uh huh,” escaped my lips in almost a hush.

Marta looked down at the narrow gap between our legs, taking in the plush white fabric of her blanket. I stared down at the space as well, aware of the way I was holding my breath. It was painful, that strong sexual charge that had suddenly struck between Marta and myself. I was afraid of touching her, knowing that I would lose all self-control if I did.

Marta suddenly moved away from me, and soon she was standing upwards with her hands nervously rubbing up and down her bare arms. “It’s cold,” she said as an excuse, before she walked away from me. She headed towards the window to push back the drapes. The window was shut and the pale white moon was barely perceived behind the thick grey clouds. “It might rain tomorrow.”

“Guess we will have to stay indoors.” My hands dragged over her blankets until I settled them over my lap. “It would be warmer away from the window.”

Marta busied herself with the buttons to her stereo-system that was close to her bed. Low jazz music came on, and by her smile alone I knew it was for me. “Harlan liked this kind of music,” she said to my horror. “But I thought you might like his old records. You can take them home, if you’d like.” She swayed to the music slowly while pinching her fingers against the thin fabric of her small black shorts. “It is more to your taste,” she added, for she feared she had offended me. “Do you play any instruments?” I shook my head in reply. It was obvious Marta was scared of becoming intimate with me, and this was her way of allowing us to become distracted.

“I don’t either,” she piped up nervously, once I slid off her bed to stand tall in front of her. Marta instinctively took a step backwards, bringing herself closer to the stereo-system. “Harlan’s got vinyl’s too. I know no one has a cassette player like this one, but you could take it back home with you. It could go with your old i-pod.” She let out a short burst of nervous laughter as I stepped forward. “Benny?”

“Yes?”

“Why are you coming towards me?”

“Why? I want to dance with you.” I hooked an arm around her, before she had time to react to the sudden movement. My right hand reached for her own, and then I slow danced with her about the room. Her body movements were stiff at first, but after a minute she became more relaxed. “Is this your first time dancing?”

“We danced like this in high school,” she pointed out. “And I had to learn the square dance when I was younger.”

“They still do that?”

“Apparently,” she laughed into the side of my shoulder.

“I like slow dances like this one,” I hushed over her ear. “It allows me to be close to a woman.”

“You are a good dancer.”

“So are you.”

“I am?”

“Ya sure are, Marta,” I consoled her in a soothing way. I swayed her around gently, wanting her to relax in my arms. If she did not want to be intimate tonight I would understand, even respect her wishes. Our whole philosophy was about taking it slow and that is what I intend to do. “Hey, Marta!” I called out. “After this I am going to bed. Alright?”

“Already?”

“It’s pretty late.”

“But could we do one more dance,” she pleaded. Her fingers stroked themselves through my hair in an effort to sway me over to her side. “Please.”

“Sure, love.”

“Benoit, you are so sweet,” she purred.

“I can say the same about you, darlin’.”

She stopped her movements suddenly, and without any notice she went on the tops of her toes to kiss my lips. I pulled her into me more, and reacted in kind. We kissed each other slowly, a nice leisurely kind that had no intention of rushing through things. Marta continued to kiss me even when I inched my head back, provoking me to lean forward and go at it again. Her hands wound themselves tighter at me, probably grateful that she gave into her desire at last. The music and slow dancing were forgotten, a new avenue naturally came over our thoughts at the same time. I tightened my hold over my dear Marta, pressing my lips harshly over hers. I swear I could never get tired of kissing her, it was just as good as the last one. We must have kissed for a minute or more, before she tilted her head downwards to catch her breath. I watched her let out sharp exhales, observing the way her chest was heaving when filled with so much adrenaline.

“Marta? You alright, hun?”

“Yeah,” she wheezed out sharply.

“I took it too far.”

“No, it is fine,” she hurriedly answered me. She wrapped two arms around the back of my neck and tugged me forward, kissing me urgently to reassure me that we could continue. I steadied the sides of her waist my hands, leaning downwards to kiss her lips again. It was a little more desperation this time, more passionate to my worry. She was tugging hard on the back of my neck, letting me know she wanted me to stay close. I let my hands slid downwards, throwing caution to the wind as I cupped the sides of her hips. I kissed her slower, taking my time to let her know we had all the time in the world. Her fingers began to carve themselves into the back of my scalp, scuffing up my neatly combed hair. I found my hands shifting backwards, resting it over her ass with every desire to do more. Marta sped up our kisses while occasionally letting out hot breaths, a sign that she wanted to take things further. I pressed my hands more firmly over her ass and eased my crotch against her. She made a soft sound into my mouth, but it wasn’t a sign that things should stop.

“Marta,” I groaned in a dangerously husky voice. My hands heaved her high into the air, placing her right against me so she could strap her legs around me. She took a moment to not kiss me, so she could look down at me. I swear her eyes were darker than I had ever seen before. Hands pressed themselves against the top of my suspenders over my shoulders. “Marta?” She licked her bottom lip unconsciously. “Marta?” I said with more suspicion, and she answered me by prying her nails into my black suspenders to pry it off my shoulders. I let her brush it off entirely until it fell over the sides of me. My cheeks puckered inwardly, for I was starting to realize she would let me go all the way. “Oh, darlin’.”

She eagerly accepted my kisses, never fighting back when I used my right hand to press itself against the back of her head. My left hand was strong enough to keep her afloat, letting her be off the ground as we gave each other passionate kisses. My feet shuffled over the hardwood floor and once I reached the end of her bed I dropped her down on it. Marta took a hold of my tie to keep me close, making me laugh in excitement. I pressed my hands on the bed on either side of her, and leaned forward to kiss those taunting lips of her. I swear I could consume her wholly, bring every last part of her to a whole new level. She tugged on my tie incessantly, enough for me to use my right hand to brush her small one aside and distract her by rubbing my fingers over the side of her jawline. Her breathing grew heavy, filled with excitable passion. I pushed her back into the bed while she was still upright, forcing myself in the middle of her. I rested my knees on the bed, allowing myself to be slightly taller than her as I kissed her lips. Marta’s hands were roaming over the sides of my muscular arms in encouragement.

“Ben,” she wheezed out mistakenly, and with that sound alone I parted our lips to have her bring her hands to the front of my neck. “What?”

“Wait,” I commanded. My fingers worked themselves through the thick ridges of my tie. When it was finally loose I did my best to pull it downwards to create a large enough hole. The short time I worked on my tie allowed Marta become nervous again. “It’s alright,” I promised her. “We don’t have to do anything tonight.”

“Alright.”

I took the last of my tie off, and then leaned forward to kiss her lips. I was much heavier then Marta, and soon enough I was leaning her backwards until we both crashed onto the bed. Our lips were still pressed together, frantic to not part for even a moment. I moved myself up the bed, arching myself slightly so I could loosen the front button to my trousers. Marta must have sensed my movements for she tilted her head to the right, and allowed me to kiss the side of her face. “I want to…”

“I know,” she answered me in a husky voice.

“Marta,” I pleaded.

She leaned her back off the bed, bringing her mouth towards mine until they could connect together perfectly. She began to kiss me again, which made me let out a relieved moan from the back of my throat. I was so hard for her now, and it wasn’t even something I was expecting so early on with her. I thought I had a good level of self-control, but Marta was taking away the last of my will power.

“Okay,” she breathed out, and then pressed on my shoulders to create some distance. She reached forward to take a hold of the top button of my dress shirt and began to undo it. I was left in a daze, so dumb-struck I simply watched her work on the first button. “Okay,” she repeated with more resolve, after it was undone. She immediately leaned forward and kissed my lips again. Hands caressed the sides of my shoulders, fingers piercing into the fabric of my dress shirt in an animalistic way. “Ben,” she wheezed out, and then brought her mouth downwards to press hard against the side of my pale white neck.

I reached for the bottom of her t-shirt and slowly pried it upwards, taking my time to let my fingers rub over her bare skin. She shuddered to my touch, melting like butter at this intimate action.

“Oh god,” she moaned, when my fingers laid over the side of her bra at the sides of her. I wanted it to be removed, to see her exposed and naked in front of me. I wanted to be the man to take her to a new level, to beg and moan, and to be purely at my mercy. I wanted to break that calm demeanour and see her wanting me just like I wanted her. “Ben,” she groaned, much to my delight after I let my hands settle there for a moment.

“Marta,” I countered in a deeply husky voice. My hands continued to pry her t-shirt off her body until she it rested around her neck-line. Marta helped me remove the last of it, and then unabashedly stared at me with nothing but her bra and short pajama shorts on. She moved first to kiss my lips, shifting my weight to the left to fall into the bed. We rolled around twice until we were resting at our sides. Her hand was placed over the side of my face as she kissed me quite desperately. “Marta,” I repeated. “Will you…”

She rolled me over until I was laying on my back, and then made it a point to straddle me. “What?” she demanded.

“Will you let me sleep with you?” I asked her with a heaving chest.

“Yeah.”

“Oh?”

“Oh?” she questioned me.

“I never anticipated this,” I said with some worry.

“Neither did I,” she admitted in a straggled voice, since she was still trying to catch her voice.

I shifted myself backwards until I could sit up in front of her. She watched me undo my shirt, while a nagging problem continued to play in the back of my mind. “There is one thing…”

“Yes?” My fourth button was almost undone before Marta moved her hand to stop me from completing my endeavours. “What is it? You can tell me.”

“I never anticipated any of this to happen,” I told her bluntly. “And as a result I didn’t bring any form of protection.”

She looked down at my stomach, and then closed the lids of her eyes with some pain.

“So, I understand if you want to hold off for tonight.”

She turned her head to the right in silent contemplation.

“We can do it another time,” I reasoned. “This is sort of spontaneous. I thought we were going to take things slow but-”

“-Ben,” she interjected in a sharp tone of voice. “Stop.”

“Sorry?”

“I know the risks,” she acknowledged. “I am willing to face the consequences. It is not like you are some random guy I hardly know.”

“Yeah, but…”

“It is fine.”

“Guess there is a possibility of starting a family earlier then _we_ both expected.” She laughed in front of me, which was probably a good sign. “I will help you through the first time,” I promised her. “You might feel pain, but that is perfectly natural. It gets easier afterwards. Marta? I really don’t want to force you to do anything. I really… well…” I broke eye contact with her as I added: “I really do love you.” I paused and felt the severity of the silence that stretched between Marta and myself. “And no matter what happens tonight, I will stay by your side. I am your friend, remember? But I am more than that now. I _want_ to be more.”

“Benoit, I want to be with you,” Marta replied with a look of love in her eyes. “I am ready to take the next step with you, whatever that will be.”

“Marta, darlin’.”

“I know,” she reassured me. “Let me take off your shirt then.”

“Oh?” I nervously chuckled in front of her, though I was grateful when she latched her hands around the buttons and began to undo each one. I had a white undershirt underneath it, so I wouldn’t feel the weight of the moment until a few minutes later at least. Marta unintentionally crumbled my dress shirt into a ball and settled it down on the floor at the foot of her bed. “You still find me handsome?” I muttered with nerves.

She rubbed her hand over the side of my cheek. “Yes,” she hushed. “I do.”

I gripped my nails into the bottom of my undershirt and slowly pulled it out of my trousers. It took me another minute to be bare-chested in front of her. I felt so exposed in front of her, not only physically but emotionally as well. She let her hand press itself against the front of my chest and held our gaze for a moment more. Marta closed her eyes and hugged me tightly, showcasing the depth of her love for me. I enraptured her in my arms as well, grateful for this show of affection. We stayed this way for a while, only stopping once she began to kiss up the length of my neck, steadily going downwards until she reached my collarbone.

“We don’t have all night,” she teased.

“Oh yes, we do.”

She giggled softly, and then released her hold over me to fall into her bed. I shifted backwards until I could let my feet fall onto the carpeted floor. I stepped away to undo my suspenders and the front button of my trousers. My trousers were eventually pulled down with my back to her, and then I had enough courage to face her in my loose black briefs. I swallowed hard at the sight of her, while building up my trouble for us to go to the next step.

“Ummm,” she murmured. “I will do mine now.” She slid herself down to the edge of the bed and then began to pull down her shorts. She offered me a timid smile, feeling a tad bit nervous as she stood there in front of me. I blinked at the sight of her, and then took a brave step forward. She reached out her hand to take a hold of mine, gripping it tightly to let me know that everything would be okay.

“Nervous?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s alright. I am a little nervous too. It has been a long time.” I looked down at our joined hands. “And it means a lot that I am your first.” My teeth scrapped across my bottom lip for a few seconds. “I want to make sure you enjoy yourself.”

“I know I will.”

“Still, there is a lot of pressure,” I pursued. “At least on my end.”

“I shouldn’t be nervous around you,” Marta pursued aloud. “I trust you.”

“I am glad.”

“Ben?”

“Yes.”

“I want to do this with you.” She stepped forward to close off the last of the gap. “Could you undo my bra for me?” she politely asked, as if it was an everyday occurrence. “Please.”

“Yes, Marta.” I watched her take her back to me, and then worked my fingers against the small clasp to undo her decorative bra that she must have worn tonight. She let out gasp once I tossed it to the ground beside her. She stood perfectly still, something I would not stand for. A fierce grip pressed against her shoulder to turn her around and with swift movements I slammed my lips against hers. Do you know how amazing it is to feel her breasts against my chest? To feel how perk and swollen they are when she desired me so much? My fingers rubbed against the sides of her with energy, feeling the manly instincts coming out since she was so very aroused.

Marta became tired of standing on her toes, and maneuvered my hands around to clasp at her ass and lift her off the floor. “Take me…” she began, and that was enough for me to carry her back into bed. She fell into it with ease, and soon she was moving backwards to the head of the bed to push away the pillows frantically. I brought my knee into the bed and then crawled after Marta. She stopped once she reached the headboard, finally allowing me to see those large swollen breasts under the lighting of her bedroom lamp. “Don’t stare!” broke through my thoughts.

“Why not?”

“Because it’s rude,” she lied.

“Oh, Marta,” I laughed. “I don’t know if I should apologize or not.”

“Don’t,” she quipped with a tiny laugh escaping her. “But it makes me shy.”

“Oh,” I cooed. “Sorry, love.” I moved forward at a slow pace. “I guess I can’t kiss them then?”

“What?” She reacted by steading her hands over my chest, knowing my next move before I did. “Wait?”

“Yes?”

“Okay fine,” she reluctantly agreed, which only generated a dark laughter from myself. She could be shy and coy, but I knew it would not last forever.

I kissed the side of her cheek as a small thank you, and then brushed the tip of my nose into the side of her face. Small pecks decorated her olive coloured skin, while my hand continued to stroke the side of her hip wishfully. I most certainly took my time when I finally did reach her breast, kissing it deeply with something of a smile. Marta was nervous, but soon she become used to this intimate interaction. Her fingers rubbed themselves through my hair, brushing it upwards in a crazy fashion. I took one perk nipple and let it slip into my mouth, trying not to moan now that I had the prize. I sucked her hard enough to elicit a sound from her lips. Her hips arched upwards unknowingly, brushing themselves the bottom of my chest and abdominal area. I could hear my name escaping her lips, haggard and short from the pleasure I was giving her. I took a braver step and laid my hand over her core, leaving it for a few moments to get her used to me touching her there. Every time her hips arched upwards it landed right into my hand, and after a while I began to stroke her there to generate even more pleasure. She was heaving heavily by this point, unknowingly succumbing to her own desires.

“It feels,” she moaned out from the back of her throat. She fell down into the bed completely, allowing me to ravish her when I felt the time was right. I would take my time with Marta though, making sure she felt safe enough with me for her to truly let go.

“If you don’t mind,” I murmured, before I sneaked my way to her other heaving breath. “I thought this one deserved some attention as well. After all, I am a respectful man,” I drawled out in a slow Southern accent that was thicker than ever. “For my dear Marta.”

She shuddered at my touch, hands gripping into the side of me as I began to stroke her clit with skilled attention. Her undergarments were damp at this point, and becoming worse by the second. She would have no choice but to remove it in the end.

“Ben,” came out in a low drawl. Her chest heaved violently, to the point that she had to physically push my head away from her chest. “Let me catch… ohhhh.” She looked down at my hand, surprised to see I had moved it away from a spot that caused all sorts of emotions from her. “It…”

“Yes, Marta.” My voice had a musical ring to it, a sound that brought a shadow of a smile to her face. “What can I do for you?”

“It’s just…” She reached for my hand and dragged it back to her core. “You know.”

“Oh?”

“Can you…”

“Can I _what?_ ”

Marta let out an exhale of pure frustration. It was so delightful to see how far she had fallen down the rabbit hole already.

“Alright, sweet pea,” I teased. “I can see what I can do.” I let my tongue prod the inside of my cheek before I was brave enough to add, “On one condition.”

“What is it?” she childishly asked me with such innocence that a part of me hated myself.

“Well, you will have to take this thing off.” I pointed at the under-garment that was damp enough for her to see. “If you want me to continue.”

She tilted her head to the right, seeing the true motive behind my words. “Oh,” she demanded with a sudden fierceness. “Is that so?”

“It makes things easier for the both of us,” I reasoned. “I don’t mind my hand getting a little wet.”

She blushed at my words, far more than I had seen in a good long while.

“Especially if, you know, you want me to go all the way.”

“Well, I do.”

“Then?”

“Alright,” she submitted, while looking down at her lap.

“I’ll do it,” I resolved, and then slipped my hand in between her thin cotton under-garments and her core to bring my finger against her clit. Marta was confused for half a second until I began to stroke her in the perfect spot. Her hands gripped me instinctively, prying themselves into my strong arms as she let out hot breaths. Eyes shut she could enjoy the sensation, allowing a tiny smile to escape her at small intervals as the tension grew inside of her.

“Oh, yes,” she finally moaned. “Yes.”

“That’s it, Marta.”

“Right there.”

“Oh, not yet.” I slowed down my efforts and used this prime opportunity to remove her undergarments completely. Poor Marta was laying there limp on the bed with her brow lightly drenching in sweat. Her nipples were as hard as ever, but I had to control myself by not looking in that direction. Her undergarments were removed entirely and then I bent down to remove my own. “Now the size might shock you,” I teased. “But I promise it will fit.”

“Really, Benoit!” Marta exclaimed with a quick shake of her head.

“Consider it a warning.”

She did make a face once my briefs were removed, but it wasn’t exactly a bad one. I suppose the fact that I was dripping for her did not help me in the least.

“How about you don’t concentrate on that,” I pursued. “Let me take care of you again.”

“Benoit.”

“Calm down now,” I chided. “Come on.”

I leaned over her body and gave her a few good kisses to calm her down. It was amazing how much she could overthink things, especially when it is as natural as making love. In time she began to relax again, especially when I brought my hand downwards to rub her in the right areas. Hips arched upwards into my hand I took the time to slip my finger into her as well, but not enough to alarm her completely. Marta kisses grew deliriously, almost uncontrollable to the point that I knew she was ready for me. She straddled her legs around my body, forcing me to remove my hand to steady my weight.

“Alright little lady,” I warned her. “It’s time to really have some fun.” She giggled at my words, since it was such a foolish thing to say. “Marta, darlin’.”

“Yes?”

“I do love you,” I reassured her. “We will take it nice and easy.” I used that moment to circle myself around her opening, allowing her to get used to the feeling. “Especially when I…” I leaned myself forward to penetrate her completely. “Ease myself in. Breathe now! Remember, we take it nice and sl-”

Her lips covered mine, preventing me from adding anything more. The bed creaked and groaned as I pushed myself inside of her, aware of the tension that was building since she was so tight. Our lips separated to simply breathe; it required more work than I expected to ease myself inside of her. Marta made some noises, which was to be expected. I moved myself into her slowly, knowing the first part would be the hardest.

“Breathe, Marta,” I reminded her, once she became too tense underneath me. “Breathe. That’s it, ol’ girl.”

“Ben,” she softly replied.

“Nice and easy, just like I promised you. The first part is the hardest, but after that.” I sped up slightly, going through the motions to have her gravitate deeper into the bed. Her arms wrapped themselves around my neck for added support, and after that I knew the worst was over. “Relax and let me love you,” I hushed close to her ear. My lips paraded themselves around the side of her face as I thrust myself inside of her, applying more pressure each time to send all sorts of sounds from Marta. She was tight, but oh Lord, did it feel just right to be doing this to her. I became more aggressive, thrusting myself into her harder, setting her firmly into the bed until you could hear the bed creak beneath Marta. The burning sensation was growing, sending me onto new heights were I wasn’t even aware of what I was doing to her anymore. It was like my body went on auto-pilot mode and I was just thrusting myself into the last of her at a steady pace with the faintest awareness of the high-pitch sounds coming from Marta’s lips. My body collapsed over her through the last of it, and only then was I conscious of the thrashing of my heart against my chest. My head dropped onto the bed, and it was there that I opened my mouth to catch my breath. She must have felt full and warm with me deep inside of her. Exhausted, I laid there perfectly still with the sweet sensation of her breast prodding into my sweaty chest. “You alright?”

Marta was silent beneath me, prompting me to turn my head to the left to see her side profile. Her eyes were shut closed but I hear her breathing heavily.

“I’ll say it again, are you alright?”

“Yes,” she replied loudly, after she opened the lids of her eyes. “More than alright.” Marta turned her head to me, and those deep hazel eyes searched out my own pale aqua blue ones with certain eagerness.

“I took good care of you,” I surmised. She rubbed her hand over my lower spine in answer while wearing a grin that was awfully hard to supress. “Look at that smile! I could look at that smile all day long and never grow tired of it. Marta Cabrera, you are something special.”

“I love you,” she responded, without having to think about it twice. “Benoit Blanc.”

There are a few times in my life where I smile so broadly, but this was one of them times. Marta responded by placing a hand over the back of my head and bringing me forward so I could kiss her. I was inside of her still, and yet, I wish I could do even more to her. Perhaps, Marta was my soul mate, or maybe I loved her beyond reason and my own damn comprehension. Her body sunk deeper into the bed as I applied my weight, never letting up now that I had her completely. She hummed softly with closed lips once I kissed the top part of her neck in idle worship.

“When we do this again, I hope you won’t be so shy.” I rubbed the side of my scruff against the smooth ridges of her jawline. “Because you will know what to expect now. It feels good, don’t it?”

“Yes,” she sighed out happily.

“And you know…” I paused, creating enough distance to see her face and every line and expression that was exposed to me. “I will always take care of you.”

“Yes, Ben.”

“As long as you know that.”

“Yes, I do.”

“And we will make this work,” I shyly added. “This long distance thing.”

“I hope so.”

“It will,” I said with utter firmness. “Alright?”

“Uh huh.”

“Your eyelids are drooping downwards,” I observed. “I tired you out, I did.” A dark laughter escaped me, something that Marta was unaccustomed too. “Always a good sign. You rest easy then, Marta. In the morning I will make you breakfast. We can watch the rain fall down while seated next to the fireplace. I will make you a nice cup of coffee and we can sit together.”

“That sounds lovely.”

“We can talk,” I suggested. “About life or our future.”

“Our future together?”

“That’s right.” I leaned backwards and looked down at her still heaving chest. “I am going to come out now,” I informed Marta. “And after that, we can cuddle. How does that sound?”

She nodded her head firmly at me, enough encouragement for me to get a move on. I watched Marta wince as I slipped myself out from her, and then had to distract myself momentarily by cleaning myself up. I took my time to help her as well, and then readjust the bed sheets to tuck Marta safely inside of it.

“Turning off the lights now. Oh, my phone too. I will turn it on silent so I can’t get no calls.” I kissed her on the tip of her nose, and then turned away from Marta. “This will be the best sleep that you’ve ever had.” The lamp flickered off, bringing the room into a much more darkened state. “We can make plans tomorrow. I would love for you to come visit me. It would be nice to show you around town. You can see my office too, since I am a P.I. and tell me what I can do to improve the place. It will need a feminine touch. I guess you can say that about my house as well.”

“Ben?”

“Yeah?”

“I am falling asleep on you.”

“Here I am ramblin’ when my girl is falling asleep on me.”

“Night, Benny.”

“Oh! Goodnight Marta.” My arms wrapped themselves firmly around my dear girl until she was pressed up against me. “Sleep well, love.”

“Benny?”

“Uh huh.”

“I wanted to say it again.”

“Say what?”

“That I love you.”

“Happy to hear you say it,” I confessed. “And I love you too, ol’ girl.”

“Good night.”

“Night, darlin’,” I responded, before I forced myself to fall asleep.

* * *

The only word to describe my emotion was a sense of dread. The text message was as clear as day, it was time for me to return home. I turned my head to the left, seeing the lovely bedhead that covered Marta’s visage from me at this particular angle. The small beeping of my phone woke me up at five in the morning, and I found myself wishing I could have spent a few more hours in blissful sleep.

“Ah, hell,” I muttered under my breath. “What am I going to tell her?”

The phone was set down on the table with disappointment. I had already responded, and now it was only a question of when I would have to drive back to the airport and fly back home.

“What am I going to do?”

I knew I would have to leave first thing, it was the kind of case that was extremely time sensitive. Every hour I laid in bed was just another opportunity for the truth to slip away from me. Eventually I rolled out of the bed and walked across Marta’s room in all my nakedness. I pulled back the drapes to see the sun had not risen over the sky yet, only a bleak shade of pure black could be perceived on the other side of the glass window. I rubbed my hand at the back of my neck, tired to the bone after sleeping with Marta last night. Slowly I staggered my way over to her and plopped down at the side of the bed. I pushed back the bed sheets to have a better look at her. She was naked and warm to the touch, it was enough for me to consider rejecting the offer to collaborate on a brand new case. I shut my eyes in misery, and then let out a deep sigh before I shook Marta awake.

“Mornin’.”

“Ben?”

“Yeah, honey.”

“Ben?” she repeated in a tired way, as her mind tried to come to terms with this early hour. “What time is it? What is wrong?”

“I need you to be awake for me.”

She rubbed her hands over her eyes profusely, and then rolled over the bed to face me. She brought the blankets over her chest in a shy-like way before gracing me with a kindly smile. “Morning,” she whispered, once the events of last night finally hit here. “Nice saying that to you.”

“Yeah?”

“It is,” she confirmed. “But you look worried.” Her hand slipped underneath the blankets until it found a small gap, enough for her to reach out and rub the side of my bare arm. “Was it something about last night?”

“No, last night was wonderful.”

“You are having second thoughts?”

“About us? No! Never.”

“Then?”

“Marta, I have to leave.”

“Work? It is work, isn’t it?”

I cleared my throat in an uneasy manner. “Sorry, hun. Yeah, I have to go back home.”

“To help solve a case?”

“A very interesting one from the few notes the detective sent to me through text. It is urgent business. Time sensitive case, so I can’t delay on this one. I have to leave.”

“Now?”

“Take a shower, pack and then…” Her grip around my arm tightened, and it was then that I saw the true sorrow displayed in her eyes. “I don’t want to leave you like this, Marta.”

“Stay,” she pleaded in a weak voice.

“I have to go to work.”

“No, you don’t.”

“You can come with me,” I suggested. “Be my Watson.” She laughed at my statement, since it was so ridiculous. “I don’t want to leave you either.”

She rose out of the bed, bringing her bare chest in front of mine in a tempting manner.

“I don’t have time for that,” I urged, since I knew that look in her eyes all too well. “You need to rest. Marta, my dear girl.”

“I want you to stay,” she childishly replied.

“How about you come with me?” I suggested for the second time this morning. “How about you come live with me?”

“Forever?”

“Sure! Why not? What is holding you back?”

“My mother is here.”

“She could join us.”

“Ben, it will make things…”

“Complicated?”

She rested her hand over the top of my shoulder and stared deeply into my eyes. “No, not that. I wanted to say we would be moving too fast.”

“I’ve been single for a long time.”

“And so have I,” she interrupted.

“That’s not it. I have been single and I have gotten used to that lifestyle. I know having you living at my place will only make things better. You have your passport, don’t you? We can fly over together. I have round-trip tickets but I can easily pay for yours.”

“Benoit, I have money.”

“Sure, I forgot.”

“Do you want me to come?”

“I would love for you to come home with me,” I stated in a clear tone of voice. “Nothing I would want more than that.”

“My mom isn’t coming home for a couple of days.”

“Vacation then.”

“I hardly think walking around potential murder sites qualify as a vacation,” she cunningly replied.

“But you would be my partner. Sherlock and Watson! We need each other. You can’t have one without the other.” I leaned forward to peck her lips against mine. “Come with me, Marta Cabrera. _Please._ ”

“Alright.”

“There’s a good girl.”

“When will we leave?”

“You will have to start packing.”

“I need a shower,” she complained. “I feel so sore and tired.”

“I will carry you around the house if you need me too. I will make breakfast too, with extra cups of coffee to serve you.”

“Can you walk the dogs too?”

“Ya my Queen,” I teased. “I will do anything you want. Alright, you roll over and get a few more hours of sleep. I will wake you up when it is time for breakfast in bed.”

“That sounds so nice.”

“And then you can take a nice hot bath,” I reassured her. “And I will help you pack afterwards.”

“Ben, you are so lovely.”

“A good friend?”

“A good friend,” she confirmed. “And lover. And…”

“Yes?”

She leaned forward to kiss my lips, though it lasted longer this time. “And I can’t wait to see your home.”

“Oh, but I promise you Marta, that it will be _your_ home too.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone that is interested I am actually a published writer. My book "Cursed" is now available on Amazon Kindle and for free on Amazon Kindle Unlimited. I will post my website link down below for you to see this titled work, free short stories and my second book that will be coming out in the fall of this year. Thank you so much for reading this fan-fiction and I hoped you enjoyed it.
> 
> https://www.gray-blog.com/


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